The Inane Bystander
by Gaara and his Little Panda-kun
Summary: "I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this.
1. Chapter 1

**The Inane Bystander**

"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** If I owned the whole LOZ franchise, Link would be gayer than a monkey on crack. ...Wait a minute, what?

**Warning:** If you see this Slash, otherwise known as Shounen Ai, you'd better report it to the Yaoi Police IMMEDIATELY. And watch your mouth. (Guess what I'm warning you about. Go on. Guess.) One OC, too, but she's irrelevant. I just wanted to give Sheik someone to talk to.

Also, the timeline flows a little differently, but the main events and the conclusion are the same. It's only tiny things having to do with when Sheik and Link first meet and the fact that Zelda isn't Sheik in this also means some timeline tinkering. But I hope it doesn't bother you monumentally.

**Quick Thank-you:** I'd like to thank Courtness and Faeyrinne for their inspirational pieces on LinkXSheik. I had nothing to do with the creation or production of their fanfictions, but they were beautiful to me, and they inspired me to start this thing off.

* * *

Link couldn't understand.

As the man before him stood there, his arms crossed, his eyes pierced evenly into Link's, sending the boy's head reeling. His blonde hair stuck out in frays from his bandage covering his face save a beautiful crimson eye which had more than enough power on its own to pierce into anybody's soul. And it wasn't that that had made Link confused. It wasn't his stunning eyes or his relatively muscular body or the fact that he spoke little and played the lyre. No, that didn't matter at all to him.

It's what the **hell **he was doing that mattered to him.

They'd been standing in silence for a few moments there, and the man looked ready to depart. After all, he was standing in front of the Temple of the Forest in the woods he used to enter as a boy. But it was hard to get it in his head that he wasn't a child anymore. And not only that-he was suddenly supposed to save the world. It came to him as a whirlwind, and he could hardly consume what he was told before the whirlwind swept him off.

...And unceremoniously left him in the arms of a dashing stranger who saw the need for face-masks and silence. Link didn't doubt he was a monk of sorts, and even if he was proven wrong later, he still wouldn't forget it.

He didn't want to be led by this stranger who hadn't even yet offered his name into the thick atmosphere. Link found he was hard to make conversation with, too. He was a brooding mentor, like a teacher who didn't appreciate the presence of children. Link found it hard to grip he wasn't a child anymore, but in the moments when he almost could, he found he disliked this man for treating him with an amusement reserved for innocent children.

Link's eyes widened slightly as he suddenly realised he didn't just dislike this man for it. He hated him.

He hadn't felt such a hate before. It was like holding a coal in his hand, but being impervious to the burn, only feeling the heat. His face flushed, and he heard a small noise from the man. He looked up at him to see his eye lightly crinkled. Link scowled. The man was **smiling** at his anger. He was amused with his hatred for him. Well, Link had a right to be angry. Least he could do was tell him his **freaking name**_, _but no, he had to go and be all suspicious. Link found it was overrated to be mysterious.

And he was also blunt. Blunt as a blade, it appeared, and not very articulate. First thing he'd told Link when they'd met here?

_"...You're relatively short for a Hero of Time, aren't you?"_

Link was only 3 inches smaller than him! He inwardly fumed at the memory that happened only minutes ago.

Link had kept his anger in check. Something he'd learned to do as a young boy was steel his emotions and make himself impervious to emotional assault. Came in handy most of the time, too. After he did so, the man pulled out a lyre and taught him a song to make it easy to get back to the temple with ease. Link had tried at hospitality with a calm 'thank you', but the man merely grunted and caught his gaze.

And now Link was standing there, flushed and fuming and feeling immediately stupid that he'd let one guy get into his brain.

Finally, the man moved. "I must depart," he said finally, and he turned his back to Link. Despite his blunt attitude and his general nonchalance, he had an incredibly smooth voice. It could soothe your inner wounds, should you ask for it. But Link only found the words he said to be troubling, and took no notice to the quality of his voice.

"Wait," Link said, but it was said reluctantly, almost spat. Still, the man took it and looked back at Link, his one eye glistening in the light of the sun which pierced dully through the thick, dreamy air of the clearing.

Link steeled himself before continuing. "I need to know your name."

Link had a reason for saying it like that. If he'd asked what his name was he was giving him the option of backing out. He was making him the one in charge of what happened next. But Link hadn't asked it. He had said it. He was showing he was unmoving, he was collected, and he was in charge.

The man responded by closing his eye. "I don't matter."

Link froze, but before he could ask, the man disappeared in a flash that could only be described as a Deku nut. Link took this moment to flare in a small, uncertain rage at this stupid, morbid teacher of song before running into the temple in a mood that could only be described as thorougly pissed off.

* * *

"I am **NOT** impressed."

Ponn sighed and stood up, looking Sheik in the eye. Her look was skeptical. Finally, after his unrelenting glare had bored her, she moved to the side of her horse and began to pull out a few things from saddlebags. "You can pick and choose anything else, Sheik," she said. "You had your whole life to be annoyed with everything and everyone. But you can't choose the Hero of Time. Just because you're unimpressed with him doesn't mean that the goddesses will suddenly change their minds."

"But you should have seen him, Ponn," he said, and she rolled her eyes and set up a small fire as he ranted. "He was scrawny and small. The only amazing thing about him was that he still fit into his Kokiri tunic. And above all that, he could pull the sword from the stone, but that's in the past now."

"Oh, is it?" Ponn asked, poking her fire with a stick. She seemed uninterested.

"Yes, it is. He could've gone into that forest armed with poultry and it would've been all the same." He pressed a hand to his nose irritatedly. "He's going to die."

"Don't be so picky with him," Ponn said, a hint of sympathy in her voice. "He's just getting settled into the state of things. He doesn't need you nagging on him to become a man, too."

"Well he needs to become one fast, otherwise..." He trailed off. When she looked back up at him, he was looking at his feet, far off somewhere, where his first and only friend was still happily playing an ocarina by a garden of glowing flowers...

Ponn stood up carefully and walked to him, but didn't touch him. "The fate of Hylia hangs in the balance," Ponn said. "And all we hold dear with it. Trust me, I understand." He looked up at her, his eye filled with something unknown. "But we can't change him. If we do anything to alter him, it might cost us everything. If we set him off the path, even for a second, we're gone." Ponn adapted a hardened look. "So don't be so hard on him. Think of what he's going through. Only try to help him. Who knows," she said, wandering back to the fire, "You might even come to like him."

He snorted, back from his reverie. "I doubt it."

She smirked, poking the fire once again. "I don't."

* * *

You like? I like? Me continue? Pweeease?


	2. Chapter 2

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COMPLAINT: O

kay, I had an amazing draft of this chapter up. I decided to save it, because I was editing it and adding a few final touches in, and it deleted the whole thing. I was so upset. The draft was great. It had description, it had detail, everything that the first chapter lacked. I was so upset. T.T

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**

Dawn crept silently over the forest, shooting rays of light over the thick forest air. Within the air bugs flew, lit up by both the sun and their inner energy. In the air a hint of the night still lingered, the humidity growing steadily as the dew resting fondly on the grass evaporated. The clearing in the front of the Forest Temple was quiet and peaceful in the dawn.

It was here that Link slept. His limbs were slack, his arms folded in his lap as he leaned against a tree trunk on the edge of the clearing. His cap still remained on his head, but golden fangs of hair swept down over his forehead. His blue eyes were closed in blissful sleep, but his hair did all the shimmering to fit the two of them. His pale skin glowed eerily in the sunlight, making him look almost spectral; intangible. His features were calm, his lips drawn into a curvaceous but thin line of contentment. Having been asleep all those years, his face had been unmarred by lines of laughing or lines of sorrow, making his face flawless and beautiful. His sword sat far off to his left, and on it lay his new bow and quiver.

Sheik was sitting in a tree overlooking the clearing, watching the Hero of Time as he slept soundly below him. His blonde hair frayed out of his cover like slits of sunlight in the sky, and though he was tan, his skin glowed, too, in the few places it was revealed. His crimson eye was hit by the sun in such a way that it turned from molten ash to a raging flame.

Watching the Hero of Time was part of the job he had acquired; to watch over him in his weaker moments and to protect him at all costs. The fate of the world hung in the balance, as Ponn had said; he'd be damned if he left the boy to do this all on his own. And it wasn't all his volunteering that got him this assignment, either: This is what he was called upon to do by Nayru. He had only his best friend and that stange guardian Impa to blame for that.

He was told that the girl had had a dream about him. He was cloaked in blue and standing behind the Hero of Time, guiding him. Apparently only a dream was necessary to thrust him into purgatory, for he was put to training for all the years that passed until there was nothing left to teach him, and then appointed caretaker. He was now babysitting the Hero of Time.

He scowled as he pulled himself out of his memories to grudgingly calculate ten different ways to kill him in under forty seconds. His sword was two paces away, making him vulnerable and left to his own devices. Part of the guardianship job was protecting him, and in order to do that, he had to think like both a guardian and a damnable foe.

How he would love to strangle him anyways. Obviously, the latter job was somewhat easier than the former.

As usual, he'd left Ponn earlier than she awoke and would arrive at his own pace. She accepted that as the norm; sometimes he'd be gone for days on end, but when he returned, she'd always be there, making him food when he came back. They fell into this pace as soon as they met-Sheik furrowed his eyebrows. Well, met for the second time.

The first time they'd met was when Impa caught him weeding the garden with her charge. Instead of taking him to get the usual seven lashings to his back and then tossed out of the castle, she'd taken him to the stables, where he met the royal horse-trainer's daughter, who was adept at training and maneuvering horses and also had a knack for making omelettes. Why he met this girl was beyond him at the time, but it came in handy when he came across her later, delivering a foal at the Lon Lon Ranch for Ingo to satisfy his horse-selling fetish. Later, he was made aware of their meeting when Ponn told him that Impa's charge had had a dream about her importance.

It seemed as if the princesses' dreams were the law of Hyrule. Or, at least, the law of Impa.

Link stirred, and Sheik raised an eyebrow. Ahh, speaking of damnable persons, his own charge was awakening. He felt himself nauseate a little as he suddenly realised the magnitude of having a charge. Would he grow old and timeless early, like Impa? Would he be connected to this hero for all of his life? He shook his head. No, once the boy was done he would be thrust back in time to live out his years. How convenient for him. He got to have his life back, while Sheik never truly got to live out his youth.

Sheik wasn't one to complain. Especially to his inferior.

Link sat up, his face still aglow at the light, and he rubbed his eyes with his gloved hands. Sheik soundlessly alighted the tree, landing safely at the ground in a crouch and standing upright, looking intensely at the Hero of Time. He was secretly hoping to get a scare out of him.

* * *

Link stopped rubbing his eyes, and after a quick yawn, looked around the clearing. With a sudden jolt, his body got rigid and his eyes landed on the man. He scrambled to his feet, tried to turn, tripped on his own foot, stumbled back, and finally fell over with a startled yell as his calf connected with the trunk.

"Good morning to you, too," The man said calmly, but on the inside he was delighted out how foolish he'd been. He'd never really had time to grow up, which meant that Sheik could mess with him and he'd react with the rashness of a child. If he poked him around enough, he figured he could revert him entirely to his old persona.

Link recovered messily, rolling to his stomach and getting up on his hands and knees. He shook his head and grit his teeth. _'I'm going to murder him soon enough,' _he thought angrily. _'What do I even need this guy for, anyway? Besides the songs, he's practically useless.'_

"I came to tell you that you should head for the Fire Temple," The man said lazily, his arms crossed. "And if you don't know where that is, shame on you."

Link got up irritatedly, brushing dirt from his tunic and glaring daggers at the man. _'There he goes again,' _Link thought irritatedly. _'Treating me like a child.' _He walked testily over to where his weapons were and grabbed them, slinging them on his body.

"You know," he said, but Link didn't look at him. "You shouldn't sleep unarmed. Someone could sneak up on you as you sleep and you'd be left to your own devices. And I don't think you know how to fistfight."

"I think you should let me alone," Link replied, standing up with all his belongings secured on his person.

"Well," the man said, and Link glared at him. "If that's what you request, then I shall oblige you. I will see you at the Flame Temple." And before Link could protest, he threw another Deku Nut and disappeared.

Link groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "Just my luck," he murmured. "I have a few more temples and I have to weather each of them with **that** guy."

* * *

Ponn didn't even look up when Sheik re-appeared, but instead worked on making her fire a roaring one so she could cook the delicious pig she'd caught earlier. She had contemplated catching this enormous fish she saw idly swimming about in Lake Hylia (she'd taken a ride on her horse earlier that morning upon seeing that Sheik had not stuck around for breakfast) but had found it much too risky with the Zoras lingering just below the surface. So she'd settled for a rather juicy pig she'd hunted off the coast of the Gerudo Valley. She didn't dare get too close to the peoples living there, though; being of Ganondorf's race, she instantly didn't trust them. Call her racist, but she would always hate Gerudos.

"Back so early, I see," she said, poking idly at her fire with a stick. She found this to be an almost habitual motion now that she'd done it so much.

"I have to wait for him to get to the Fire Temple," he murmured. "Which should take all day, by the way he's moving."

She sighed. "So everything I said went in one ear and out the other, did it? How unfortunate."

"It should at least console you that I considered being nice to him but found it just wasn't quite worth it," he replied sarcastically and she bit back the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"I'm roasting pig over the spit," she said. "Would you like some?"

"No, thank you," he replied, sitting down. "Nonconformists don't eat pig."

She let out a melodic chuckle before setting up her roast. Sheik made no movements to help her, but watched intently as she set everything up. Then, after everything was cooking, Ponn wandered toward him and sat down next to him, crossing her legs and putting her hands in her lap. Her skin was tan from all the days and nights spent camping in the fields of Hylia and her brown hair hung at her shoulders, but her bangs were tied behind her head, revealing the many piercings on her ears. She wore a long tunic. What was with Hylians and tunics?

A soft mount of laughter brought Sheik out of his musings. He looked at Ponn, who was covering her mouth and smiling.

"What's so funny?" Sheik asked, and she pointed to the stairway to the Kakariko Village. A green-clad figure was racing up the steps. Sheik stood up abruptly, causing Ponn to melt into giggles even further. He turned to her quickly. "Ponn," he said in a serious tone, and she looked up at him, her giggles subsiding. "After the pig is done, relocate closer to Lake Hylia. I would prefer somewhere inconspicuous."

Instantly, she replied, "I know a perfect spot. The gate of Lake Hylia, off to its left. There's a rather boring spot there, and it's far enough from the Gerudos so we won't be questioned." Sheik nodded and then began running toward the staircase. He wasn't going to let this little brat beat him to Kakariko; no way in hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Inane Bystander**

"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing.

**Disclaimer:** Ahh, Zelda... You've gotten in trouble one too many times. It's those loan sharks, isn't it? You know... *makes obnoxious roaring noises with weird hand signs* Yep, it's them... How is this even a disclaimer?

**Warning:** Boys. Love. Boys. OCs. Are. Present. Ye. Be. Warned.

**Apology: **I'm sorry I haven't been writing much with this story, I posted two chapters and then whooshed off to Neverland. I guess I was too preoccupied with the story I could publish. XD I'm still pretty sorry. I like this story.

Oh, and in this chapter, I feel like Sheik sorta tries too hard to upstage Link. It's hilarious to me. XD

**((Chapter 3: Determination/Cursed Encounters))**

Sheik arrived in Kakariko just in time to see Link speed up the hill leading to the mountain's rocky ridges. He cursed under his breath, dashing through the town's busy streets and stopping by the stairs to the hill, sliding due to the lack of grip on his shoes.

"Damn!" he yelled, sliding so severely it was hard to recover properly. Still, he recovered, and made his way up the hill, watching as Link disappeared around a corner. Sighing, he looked up the mountain. He had to get there before Link. As he thought about it, he decided there was no particular reason besides him hating the boy and feeling really superior to him because he had all the answers. A mentor that is late is a mentor that is dumb, as somebody once said, and that was why he **had** to get to that temple first.

Deciding on what to do, he backed up a few paces, looked up the mountain, and then ran to it, jumping up and gripping onto some loose rocks in the sides. Then, he began to climb.

His movements were swift. He was an excellent climber after spending years of training learning how to do pretty much anything. But then his mind wandered as he suddenly realised that they never taught him how to roast pig over a spit or grill fish or even make an omelette, and that was why he had Ponn. He furrowed his eyebrows as he climbed up the mountain. _How did they expect me to survive if I didn't even know how to cook? Do Sheikahs use photosynthesis or something? _He chuckled, but stopped the minute he lost his grip. He swung and caught himself on another rock. Then, he resumed his climb.

Up the mountain he scaled, leaving no moment of rest, evening out the usage of his energy so that, by the time he got to the top of the mountain, he wasn't too terribly tired. He climbed up over the edge and deftly stood up, flicking the stray blonde hair from his eyes and looking around. He spotted Link, running through the doorway of the Goron society, and cursed once again. Looking around, he ran back to a ledge in the mountain and began to climb. Thankfully, he knew his own way to the temple.

He jumped up to a higher ledge from the one he was standing on, and an even higher one, and then leaped across a gap to another ledge. He climbed quickly up the wall and began at a dead run, ignoring the boulders raining from the sky. He dodged them deftly and quickly ran to the tangled mesh of vines on the wall, climbing up as soon as he got there. He climbed and climbed, glancing around him to see if any of those skulltulas were coming after him-

And climbed straight into one. With a loud cry, he bumped backward off of it, released his grip of the vines, and fell roughly ten feet to the cold, rocky ground.

He hit the ground with a thud and lay there a moment in a daze, seemingly unconscious to the world but very conscious to himself. _If Ponn were here, _he thought scoldingly, _she'd be laughing at you, accusing you of being a crappy Sheikah because you yelled before you fell ten feet to the ground. She'd say you were trying way too hard to upstage your charge and that you'd be better off trying to win the brat over._

_Shut up, _he thought to himself. _She'd be screaming too if she were about to fall ten feet to the ground. And besides, she isn't here, now is she?_

He suddenly realised he may have been concussed by that rather nasty fall, as he was having a mental debate with himself about his own opinions, and he tried to get up quickly, only to stumble a bit upon return to his feet and lean against the wall. He put his hand to his head, trying to still his constantly moving mind that spun in eccentric circles. After the dizziness subsided, he began to scale the wall again.

_Ahh, and still you keep at it? _his inner voice inquired, which Sheik was now beginning to dislike.

"Shut up," he murmured, climbing once again. Looking up, he saw a skulltula oblivious to his approach, and so he pulled a dagger from his boot and sliced out at it. It shook, released its grip of the vines and fell to the ground with a thud. "You're a figment of my imagination."

_Wrong, _it said joyfully, and Sheik found it hard to resist punching himself in the head.

"Okay, fine," Sheik said frustratedly, sliding his dagger back into its holster in his boot. Looking up, he noticed he was halfway up to the top. "You're a concussion."

_Wrong again, _it said in a sing-song voice, and Sheik grit his teeth as he resumed his climb skillfully. _I'm your conscience._

Sheik snorted. "Since when did I acquire one of those?"

_Since you came across the young, dashing Hero of Time._

Sheik snorted yet again. "Dashing, you say? You sound as if you're in love with him, Conscience."

_And who's to say I'm not? _his conscience said, and Sheik slipped, holding on with only one arm. He glared in all directions, as if that would somehow get the glare through to his brain.

"I am **not **in love with the Hero of Time." he seethed through clenched teeth.

_Never said __**you **__were, _it said idly. _I said __**I **__was._

"Yes, but that would imply that a part of me has fallen in love with him. Therefore, I'm falling in love with the Hero of Time." Sheik waited for a response. Not receiving one immediately, he regained his grip and continued up the side of the mountain.

_It could be so,_ he finally heard. _But you and I are just strangers to this enigma called love. I'll wait until I call it._

Sheik rolled his eyes, beginning to just accept that he had a conscience. "If I had known I was having guests, I would've prepped the spare bedroom," he said sarcastically, and he finished his climb. He scrambled over the top, standing up quickly, and made his way through a hole in the side of the mountain.

The sweltering heat was boiling as smoke rose from the lava below. Charred rock and ash flew about in the dangerous atmosphere. Sheik breathed in the air deeply and breathed it out, remembering an old Sheikah mentor of his who enjoyed smoking and only lit his pipe by the flames of the mountain. Every time Sheik visited Kakariko, which always smelled a tad bit of the mountain, he would remember that mentor. It was the same one who taught him how to fight, and, eventually, taught him how to serve and protect the Hero of Time.

"Ah!" someone said, and Sheik turned to look at Link, who was wearing a red tunic now, approaching Sheik. "There you are!"

"Punctuality isn't in your repritoire, is it?" Sheik said, pretending to be bored as he turned to fully face the Hero. He enjoyed how Link's eyes flickered, but appreciated the otherwise silent reaction from him. Maybe he **was **growing up. What could one temple do to a boy?

"So," Link said, and Sheik looked at him lazily. "You have a song for me, or are you here just for a social visit, O Mysterious One?"

Sheik smirked and got straight to business, pulling out the lyre from the folds of his garb and watching as Link pulled out his ocarina. Swiftly, Sheik played the Bolero of Fire, the song that would allow Link to return to the mountain. Link repeated it, and for a short moment, their songs mingled as they finished. The harmony was strikingly perfect, every note in balance with the other, mixing together as one tumoltous finish to a short but powerful song.

Sheik slowly lowered his lyre, feeling a tingle in his fingers. He looked away so as to hide his reaction, but he was staring incredulously at the ground. He felt like, for a moment, the boy had probed deeply into his soul with his music. Deciding it was merely his conscience poisoning his mind, he looked back at Link. He was instantly met with a steady blue gaze, ready for anything, and was instantly struck.

To cover up, Sheik rolled his neck and yawned. "Better get in the temple and kill something," he murmured, barely audible over the normal activity of the volcano. "Kakariko's counting on you to stop imminent eruption. No doubt the something that's in there is going to wreak havoc." Link nodded, looking toward the entrance.

He straightened his stance, and his gaze adapted a hardened look. "I'm ready for it," he replied. He took two steps forward toward the door, and Sheik almost thought he was going to leave. But he stopped and turned to Sheik, and the childish glint was back in his eye. "I want to know," he said, his tone less tense. "What's your name? Why do you help me?"

Sheik blinked before he evenly replied. "I don't matter," he repeated in the same tone as before. "You needn't worry about who I am and why I do what I do. Just worry about the task at hand."

Link remained silent, staring at his feet, and Sheik thought he was going to erupt into some kind of tantrum like he had the first time. But, instead, he looked up at Sheik and nodded. Then, it was Link who left first, running through the archway and beyond where Sheik's eyes could see.

Sheik took this moment to sit down, gathering his thoughts. It was just a melody, and it was just his eyes... But something had changed in them. Before, he'd seen just some naive little boy struggling to grasp an early future... But now he'd seen something bordering on man, something that had come to grips with the severity of the situation. Something that had come to terms with the risk, the danger, the loss... What had he seen in that temple? He shook his head. This was an overreaction. His conscience was making him look-what had it said? Young and dashing?

Sheik stood up. "Just an overreaction. My conscience is playing tricks on me." With that, he began walking out of the mountain.

_For the record, _his conscience thought. _I never said anything. This is all __**your **__fault._

Ponn stood up from her crouch on the ground and stretched, lifting up her tunic a little to reveal a dagger hilt sticking out of her boot. She'd just situated the camp next to the gate of Lake Hylia, and now it was like she'd never even moved. Everything was as it was before.

Ponn looked down at her work from her stand and felt herself grow a little weary. Her shoulders lowered and she sighed, pushing her hair back. She sat on the ground next to her horse and pat its leg softly. It absentmindedly leaned in to her touch, and continued grazing in the luscious grass set before it.

"Din, Nayru, Farore," Ponn murmured, rubbing the horse's knee softly, feeling the coarse hair there. "I still don't know why you've assigned me this task. I still don't know why Zelda's dreams are so important, or why I shall be here for Sheik to answer to his every beck and call." She sighed, closing her eyes. "But I trust you shall inform me of my worth in due time. I just would like to know if I were put in this place for anything else besides creating omelettes."

"Oh, trust me, you were put here for other purposes as well," a voice said, and Ponn's eyes shot open. She quickly scrambled to her feet and turned around, seeing a dark rider mounted on a dark horse. The two of them were oozing some eerie smoke-like darkness, and Ponn instantly recognised the figure.

"Such as what, Ganon, great and noble Dark King of Hyrule?" Ponn said, backing up slowly. The horse advanced at a pace equal to hers.

"Such as informing me of the position of the Hero of Time," he said. "And the Sheikah, while you're at it. Can't have a trained assassin wandering about, you see. It's not safe for the people."

"Feh!" Ponn scoffed. "Safe! Oh, I thought I'd never live to see the day when Ganondorf, Coward of Hyrule, would care for the safety of the people of whom he stole from the mightier and the wiser!"

Ganon snarled, and it was a deep, gutteral sound. "Don't push me too far, Horse Master," he said in a deep, morbid tone. "You do not wish to feel my wrath."

"The only wrath I shall feel from a coward is the wrath of the dirt kicked up as he runs from those who have bested him," Ponn replied sharply, and his lips twisted into a grimace. She had instantaneously known it wasn't him. She knew it was another one of his shadows, and she knew that if it got back to Ganon, it would relay her current position. The only thing crossing her mind now was how to kill it and how to keep it on her tail so that she had a chance to.

"I warned you once, and I shall now warn you once again," Ganon said, his voice hitting a deeper octave. "Silence yourself and I'll let you live."

"Let me live or spare your own decency?" she dared go further. "I'll have you running from me, bereft of both pride and courage, as you should be, Gerudo rat!" She crouched low, gaining a sinister tone as she added, "I will run you out of Hyrule in a manner similar to that of a boar run from its hiding spot, for that's all you are; a pig, waiting to be stuck."

The figure lunged with a sword pulled instantly from its scabbard. Due to her already crouching position, it was easy to dodge it. She climbed onto her horse quickly as the shadow recovered, and she urged it to run in old tongues that she and her father trained horses with. "Vodi, eil myrn ti si taelol os cari!"(see the end to see what it means)

The horse was off as quickly as possible, and the shadow wasn't too far behind. Ponn glanced behind her, seeing the shadow pull out a bow. She widened her eyes as he prepped an arrow and shot. Luckily, the horse went down a hill, but the arrow whistled over her head.

She gripped the reins tightly, her knuckles going white as she urged the horse to take a sharp left. It complied with a natural grace unseen in the shadow's horse, and it careened forward, taking a wide arc for a turn. She turned even further and quickly rushed out to where the shadow was, taking the dagger from her boot and attempting to stab him. But he laughed maniacally as he quickly moved his horse, making hers run past him. She quickly maneuvered the horse to turn to the left and pursue the shadow, who was laughing and making his way to the city.

"Cari!" she cried to her horse, feeling panic overtake her as they swiftly approached the gates. The horse swiftened, and as they neared ever closer to the gates, she grew more desperate. Finally, she got close enough to stand up on her horse and take a valiant leap. She soared through the air, brandished her dagger, and planted it in his back. With a loud cry, he fell off his horse, which immediately evaporated into the air.

They rolled onto the ground, the dagger stuck in his back, and as Ponn settled onto the ground, she began to scream, clutching at her wrist and looking up at the shadow. It was clawing along the ground. With a final roar, it spread its arms to the sky and erupted into blackness. Ponn clenched her teeth and looked at her arm, seeing her hand growing pale. She stood up, still clutching her arm, and whistled for her horse. It came in a soft gallop and stopped faithfully by her side. She mounted the horse, careful not to use her arm, and they rode back to the campsite.

As they approached, Ponn grew weary. She noticed the fire had been kicked out by one of the horses and the supplies were awry. But she was in no condition to fix them now. Her energy was being sapped and her left arm-the one she'd stabbed the shadow with-was in pain. She slid off the horse and fell unceremoniously to the ground. Her eyes glazed as she fell into an uneasy sleep.

Thanks for being such faithful readers. I really stayed up late to finish this chapter. It's WAY past my bedtime. :D

Translations:

_Vodi, eil myrn ti si taelol os cari!: Ride, and show me the meaning of haste!_

_Cari!: Hasten!/Faster!_


	4. Chapter 4

**The Inane Bystander – Chapter 4**

"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing.

**Disclaimer:** I disclaim everything but Ponn in the name of justice… And the fact that I'd ruin the franchise for many of you people out there… XD

**Warning: **There's some homosexuality in this that makes logical sense if you're a fangirl or open to a lot of new ideas. There's also an OC, which also makes sense to plot bunnies or people open to a lot of new ideas. There's also timeline glitching, only making sense to those who enjoy a quick mix up or are open to a lot of new ideas. Well… If you enjoy this story, you're obviously open to a lot of new ideas… Up for a threesome? XD

**Quick Question: **What the hell does fletching mean? XD

**Mild Apology: **I was hoping beyond hope that this story had not died on me… But I had, a time ago, lost my precious Ocarina of Time game and it has only recently been rediscovered. Then I got back into the beautiful habit of playing and I have returned to fulfill this fanfiction's destiny of being completed and my own personal triumph—all for my own personal gratification! :D

* * *

**((Chapter 4: Names and Faces/The Pig and the Spit))**

Link felt he could go no further.

He had numerous feelings as he left the rumbling volcano and slunk his way out into the open air before falling to the ground at the top of the mountain, sweating profusely and panting heavily as his shoulders quaked with an open effort to keep his body from collapsing into itself.

He felt aged, physically bearing more than could be seen by his time, his mental childhood disintegrating as he watched the world he once knew crumble. He felt dark, distressed in watching his old friends, the ones he could rely on, disappear. His friendship with Saria, proposed to be timeless as they were to be themselves, fluttered away like ash on a breeze, and his brotherhood with Darunia crumbled to dust. He felt pain, remorse, anger at the loss of them, at the loss of everything, and at the creatures he'd had to kill, the number of lives, however evil, that were gone at the tip of his sword. He felt happy, for if he did not save these people, kill these things, solve these puzzles, then who would? But above everything else he felt, he felt sadness, an aching weariness, a homesickness he could not cure, for time could not be challenged, and neither could destiny, and he was at odds with only these two things.

Lingering by his ear was the gentle hum and flutter of dear Navi's wings, the little fairy to which he felt only a mild friendship and from whom he received a gentle motherly love. He was coddled by her outside of the temples, but inside she was his trainer and advisor in all things.

But, in these circumstances, he could not call her his confidant; for she had no idea of the inner turmoil he faced, the struggle and battle he held within, and she would never catch a glimpse of it if he could help it. She would see nothing but the façade he put up for the rest of the world; a tired, but determined Hero of Time who felt no pain in the loss of his friends. It was better, to him, than showing what he really felt.

"Link," Navi's voice called to him, but he couldn't see her, because his vision was blurred. With a strain that was noticeable to all, he hoisted himself from his slump and crawled further from the mild radiation that came from the passageway into the mountain; for whatever reason there may be, the heat that was once soothing was now scalding beyond all comparison.

"Link," Navi's voice repeated, and his vision fluxed a bit before settling into a normal formation. He looked at the fairy that wavered a few feet from his face, seeing nothing more than a tinkling ball of light in his exhausted state. "You shouldn't move anymore. Stay completely still."

He complied wordlessly and slumped down on his back, his blonde hair fraying gently over his eyes, blocking out the sun from his eyes as they drooped closed. For a moment there was no sound, save the ambience of the restless volcano and the whispering air, and then footsteps could be heard, a soft echo of a soothing sound rushing up to greet Link. He welcomed the sound, but Navi was grave.

"Link, stay quiet, and don't move," Navi said, powerless to help him, but she slid under his cap, hiding herself instead. Link felt the blood rushing from his cheeks, his body picking up a relatively soothing temperature as the wind whistled by. The footsteps, carried on the wind, were a beat to the melody that tamed his thoughts and his body, once stiff and rigid from constant struggle, went lax and got considerably calmer. He didn't seem to mind the fact that the footsteps were approaching and it could be anybody on the mountain that carried a happy tune, even Ganondorf.

But then the noise got even nearer, and while Navi stiffened, Link went calm as the words being sung became understandable and he recognised a female voice on the wind:

_"Where darkness lingers, I shall not,  
The fire is warm, and the food is hot.  
Where I linger, time is well,  
The birds sing, the flowers swell.  
The people here will take you in,  
They'll love you as they love their kin.  
So settle by the riverside,  
Where everyone makes merry._

_We'll drink a toast to all the best,  
And send you off like all the rest.  
Should you choose to stay in place,  
A toast will be made in your grace.  
Then we'll send you off to bed,  
And lay down your weary head.  
And you shall dream of things far off,  
And no burden shall you carry."_

The footsteps seemed to branch into the clicking of hooves and the padding of feet on the rocky terrain, but by the time the two of them were discernable they had stopped, and the cheerful song had died on the wind. Slowly, the footsteps approached the weary Hero and stopped just near his head.

They were quiet and still a moment, as if watching him, and he suddenly felt conscious of eyes probing his being, noticing his uneven and labored breathing and his still-still trembling shoulders. Then, he suddenly felt a hand upon his neck; it was calloused, but very gently, as if the callouses were new, recently adapted. There still lay softness to them, showing the effects could be undone and the recentness of the affliction, but the hand moved from his neck to brush hair from his forehead and lay there. Then, the hand disappeared once again and the footsteps led to a few feet away. There, they paused, but something could be heard from above, sounding much like the shuffling of canvas, but it went as quickly as it came, and the footsteps led to the crown of his head.

Suddenly, the hands were gently nudging his shoulders up, and they pushed him upright, but he came back down gently, suddenly resting himself on a slope. The sun was in his eyes again and Link winced, but then it was blocked out entirely by something big. He couldn't tell much due to his eyes being closed. He heard a sound he hadn't heard in a while; the rushing of water, and before he could tell, there was a wet rag upon his forehead.

"Sir," said someone, a maiden's voice, calmly, and he slightly opened his eyes. "I hope I'm not intruding, but you looked in dire need of medical assistance. I'm offering you something. It's the same thing I poured on the rag that's on your forehead. It's only water, but if you wish me to test it for poison, I'd be more than glad to."

He opened his eyes and found himself staring into emerald orbs set in a face, shaped like chestnuts. They were big, naïve, and childish, but they were kind and compassionate. Cupid's bow lips curved into a slight smile, and cheeks rosy with the heat radiated a light pink. The girl above him raised a canteen, her face pensive as her eyes flickered about in their sockets, dissecting his appearance and his well-being, no doubt.

He tried to speak but found he couldn't, the air in his throat too parched from the heat of the mountain to be of any use to him. He sat up, at first, quickly, but a hand on his chest stilled him, and he looked over to the girl, whose eyes said more than her lips did. He took the ascent more slowly, and she released her hand as a result, taking the rag from his forehead. When he finally got to sit, she opened her canteen and took a sip before handing it to him—the test to prove she wasn't lying to him. He took it and gave her as big a smile as he could, but his lips were parched and cracked and it resulted in a small wound forming as his delicate lip split. She gave him a small look of surprise before getting up and rummaging in her bag, returning with a smaller canvas bag than the one she had mounted on her surprisingly docile horse, with chestnut fur and big, black pupils.

She opened it and looked to him. "Drink first," she said, and he drank until he thought he'd be sick. He took intervals to breathe and let the liquid settle before diving in again, feeling himself finally cool off. Then, he looked to her and nodded, showing he was finished. She smiled before dipping her finger in the bag and reaching up tentatively to rub it into his lower lip, where the split occurred. He smiled at the feeling, noticing intensely the softness of her fingers. Her eyes were trained on his lip, though, and she gave a small smile in return, and finished her work carefully before closing the bag and returning everything to its rightful place.

"Hero of Time," she said, and he looked at her incredulously, but she was still facing her obedient and patient horse. "I'm glad I could help you on your journey. If I could ask that you come with me to my camp, I should be much pleased." She turned to face him now, and he could see her pointed ears, her piercings, her gentle manner and her grace all pulled into one place, one expression. He hesitated, unsure if it was safe, before she amended, "I am a friend of the Sheikah you've encountered at these temples' gates. I am his friend, Ponn. I can take you to him, and he can lead you on while I tend to your wounds." She seemed anxious to assist him in any way, but there was a jovial goodness in her eyes, and that was what convinced him to go, finally; that, and the mention of the Sheikah, which made him feel a jolt and reawakened his long-dormant hunger to know more about the cocky stranger that made sure he was on the right track out of obligation.

"I'll come with you," he said, standing slowly, and she rushed to him, holding up his shoulders over her arm and taking some of his weight. She escorted him to the horse, which bristled at his weight as he was clumsily situated atop it, but didn't object any further. Then, she took the reins, this Ponn, and smiled at him before escorting their small caravan down the mountain.

It was a peaceful walk, and Link soon found out he was in the dungeon for two days and a fourth, it was nearing midday, and they would reach camp by sunset. "Where, if I may ask, is your camp?"

"Just outside of Lake Hylia, your next stop on your journey to liberating Hyrule," she said, still facing forward. "We're a safe distance from the Gerudos, in case you were wondering, so there's no need to fear a raid. At any rate, the Sheikah and I can handle anything they throw at us." She switched the reins between her hands, and he noticed her left falling limp to her side. It was bandaged and pale, and, every once and awhile, twitched and convulsed.

"Ponn," he said, and she let loose a little noise of inquiry. "What happened to your hand?"

She raised her right one and examined it. "Nothing," she said. "It's alright."

"What about the left?" he asked, and she glanced down at it. Then, she slowly raised it, stopping her walk, which stopped the horse.

She looked at it, her fingers perpetually curved inward, pale and convulsing, throbbing to the singular tune of her heartbeat. She adapted a look of softened sadness, of almost acceptance of the inevitable and horrible, before she lowered it, gaze still glazed.

"It got stepped on by something and it's infected," she said. "I was skewering a boar in the Gerudo lands." Then, they continued on their walk. Link was not convinced in the slightest, but stayed quiet from then on, so as not to disturb her. She seemed deep in thought from then on in, and answered questions in vague detail.

Their descent was swift despite the silence, and they arrived at the village at its base, Kakariko, in a heartbeat. Though the village itself was in a weary trance no longer, and people returned to the outdoors. As they passed through, people gazed in awe at Link, and some people shouted familiar greetings to Ponn. One man even shouted, "Ponphelle, you've been gone too long!", to which she replied, "Darron, it's going to stay that way!", which extracted joyful laughter from the man.

Link was in awe of the familiarity. He was never once greeted in any place like this. Nobody took him as familiar, but always a stranger, bent on nothing more than saving the world. To see someone as loved by their town as Ponn gave him hope and made him feel a warmth he couldn't understand. He looked at her face as she waved to people who yelled greetings, but saw no love in her eyes, just mere obligation.

As they exited the village, she gripped the reins with two hands and her walk became weary, as if she'd run a long way. He watched her carefully, uncertain if she was alright. The rest of the walk was in complete silence, and Link took it upon himself to watch the sun race through the sky, a falling star. As sunset came upon them, they arrived at a campsite with a lit fire and supplies strewn about in a semi-organised fashion. And, to Link's surprise, sitting with his back to them, was the Sheikah, his legs drawn up and his arms draped across his knees, a very pensive position for him to be taking.

"Ponn," he said, without turning, and Ponn stopped, her horse pausing too. "I told you not to leave."

"If I had not left, you would've gone hungry tonight—"

"And it's just as well," he said sternly, and Link was taken aback. "I need to know where you are. I can't afford to lose you."

Link looked at Ponn for a reaction, engrossed by this sudden episode, but Ponn was impassive. "You don't need to worry anymore, Master Sheikah. I have him."

The Sheikah stood up and turned, looking at Link. His one revealed eye seemed haggard, as if he'd suffered long hours of torment, but was otherwise normal; determined, harsh, strong. "Welcome to our camp, Hero. I see you suffered no fatalities."

"Ponn saved my life on the mountaintop," Link said, and he smiled at Ponn, who looked a little surprised he'd mention it. "Without her, I would have wasted away to nothing right then and there."

The Sheikah made a small noise of confirmation before turning to the camp. "Ponn, if you could perhaps hunt and kill something for us to eat, I'll tend to him for the time being." Ponn nodded, let go of the reins, which were in her left hand, and pulled, from her boot, a small dagger and slung a quiver over her back with her right. Then, she turned and ran toward the red, desert sands.

He took the reins and began to lead the horse closer to camp. Link was once again annoyed by the hard-headed Sheikah and his reluctance to admit anyone's grace but his own. "Ponn is a graceful healer."

He stopped the horse and set up a small cot while Link tested his legs by pushing gingerly against the horse. He found himself still quaking due to a lack of sustenance and overwork. He stopped when the Sheikah turned around, and, instead of helping him down with the traditional arm under his shoulders, he scooped Link up into his arms, carrying him like a maiden. Before he could oppose, he was settled on the cot gently, and the Sheikah was wetting a rag for his forehead.

"I suppose she is," he finally replied in an offhanded manner. He pressed the rag to his forehead. Link was staring at the sky, lit barely by the late sunset. His eyebrows furrowed.

"She deserves nothing less than your praise, Master Sheikah," Link replied, remembering half the reason he came. "So… You're a Sheikah?"

The man slightly stiffened, but began undoing Link's gloves. He did not protest. "Yes," he said, pulling one off of Link's hand and resettling the hand with surprising delicacy. "I am the Survivor of the Sheikah."

Link looked at the survivor, shocked. "Survivor? You mean, the rest of your clan… They're all gone?"

Beneath the mask, a sardonic smile appeared. "Gone is a nicer way to put it, yes."

"Oh…" was all Link could reply, and he stared at the appearing stars, feeling something deep within him grow cold and sad. "How did it happen? A whole race couldn't just… Vanish. There had to be a reason, a valid cause."

The Sheikah was fiddling with the other glove and spoke with the air of a scholar as he replied. "No, they didn't just vanish; you're right. This process took many decades to finally accomplish, or, at least, dwindle down to such a number as I present. You see, a long while ago, the Sheikah were a dying race. Very few walked the fields of Hyrule without worries of persecution. Ganondorf's forces were running rampant long before he gained control of the Triforce, and the Sheikah had still pledged allegiance to the Royal Family. We were in immediate danger." He slid the glove off of Link's fingers and settled it with the rest of his clothes. Then, he set to washing Link's hands, noticing the burn marks marring them.

"Many Sheikah attempted to stay behind and fight off this rebellion, thus defending the Royal Family; others were wise and hid in places where Ganondorf's men were too bothered to look. Spending most of their time fighting and fleeing, none of them had any time to settle and start a family as they used to." He set Link's hand down and reached for the other, and Link's eyes were trained on his, the look in them intense and saddening.

"Over time, raids and old age began to claim the Sheikah. When the Triforce was taken by Ganon and all remains of the Royal Family had disappeared, they divided in such a manner that they relied solely on themselves, when a body of people would have been more efficient. Times grew dark as the race disappeared more rapidly than ever before. Eventually, the numbers dwindled to just two Sheikah, and, after a long and strenuous search on my part, we finally found each other. Years later, Ganon's forces claimed my friend and left me to be the last Sheikah."

He set Link's hand down and stared at the ground, in a reverie, before looking back at Link. Somehow, his gaze was still cocky and hardened, as if none of this bothered him; as if losing everything had not left a mark on him at all.

Link wished he could be something like that.

"You seem so calm about it," he said incredulously. The last Sheikah just scoffed and set to reattaching Link's gloves to his forearms.

"Things change all the time, Hero," he said. "For better or worse, they change. A childish mind will turn to noble ambition… Young love will become deep affection… The clear water's surface reflects growth… And, in saying so, I know that, day by day, things change. I have learned to live with it and accept it." He finished putting his gloves on and stood, looking at the sunset that was nearly gone beneath the horizon. "I'm going to go to the desert to check on Ponn," he said, and he began to run toward the desert.

Link smiled as he watched him go. _This is the first time he's left me with a notion of where he's gone._

* * *

_It seems that Link and Sheik are starting to bond! But will Sheik reveal his first name or will unreliable confidants blab the truth without his consent? And what about Ponn's hand? Is it healing or is it the cause of her off-mannerisms? Find out on the next installment of… THE INANE BYSTANDER: SOAP OPERA EDITION! (NOW IN SPANISH)!_

_Wow, could it just be possible that I finished this chapter within a few hours of starting it, and it's longer than all my other chappies? I shall get started on the next one!_

_Oh, BTW, the thing that Sheik said about things changing, came directly from Sheik himself in the game. From 'A childish mind…' to '…reflects growth…' is from the game._


	5. Chapter 5

**The Inane Bystander – Chapter 5**

"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing.

**Disclaimer:** Wow, if I were the one who created the magical world of Hyrule… Would I really be on ? Figure that one out.

**Warning: **Alright, I'm going to make it plain and simple for you, since I've no time for disclaimers. There's Shounen Ai that will evolve to some Yaoi, one OC, but don't take it personally, and timeline tinkering. And you can take that to the bank, ladies and gents.

**Mild Apology (Again): **I'm sorry if I seem kinda tasteless in the disclaimer and warning, but I'm so excited about writing this chapter that I can't waste my creative juices on the disclaimer and warning. I wanna spoil it so badly but I can't! XZ Just read it, yes?

* * *

**((Chapter 5: Sheik, The Survivor of the Sheikah/That Darkness Not to Be Spoken Of))**

The Sheikah had led him to a nightmare. As far as the eye could see, land was exposed. That might've been fine if he were standing in Hyrule Fields or in the Gerudo Valley, but this was the temple guarded by the Zoras. This was Lake Hylia.

"You sure we're in the right place, Master Sheikah?" Link asked, turning to look at the survivor.

His gaze was locked on the surrounding landscape. "Positive," he murmured just above the tapping of the solemn rain.

It had been a week since Link was taken to the Sheikah's camp and he had been healed and fed thoroughly until he felt more than capable of tackling the temple and all its contents. During the time at the camp, though, he'd gained extensive knowledge of not just potential enemies, but of Ponn and Master Sheikah themselves.

Ponphelle was a handyman. She was basically around to keep Master Sheikah alive, and, in doing so, keep Link alive. She was gentle and sincere, but stubborn and hard when Master Sheikah was being, as she said, 'self-righteous and pig-headed'. Oddly enough, she enjoyed any kind of pig analogy she could get her hands on, and she enjoyed eating enough pig to satisfy both she and the Sheikah. She was a novice archer and a good dagger-wielder, mostly skilled at horseback combat, despite her disabled left hand, which grew worse every day. Her chestnut horse—named Arestol-had been with her since birth, and they had become close friends and allies. When she could not rely on Master Sheikah for comfort, she could definitely rely on it. Overall, Ponn was an open-minded woman of good faith and great skill, but was underestimated and especially underappreciated.

Master Sheikah was more of an enigma. He did not reveal his name, and Ponn never said it, though Link knew that she knew it. He insisted that he went by Master Sheikah, which was not a formal title for someone, but definitely made him seem like he was a leader. He was surely fit to be one; born with stealth and natural grace, he often disappeared in the morning, which worried Link, but Ponn seemed to take it in stride, and she prepared his meals all day and thatched some of his wounded clothes back together. He usually arrived at his own pace, but always within the same day as he left. Oftentimes, he'd be seen thinking to himself, and Ponn would let him alone.

The day had come within the week that Link threw his arms up in the air and claimed, for the fiftieth time, that he was prepared to enter the temple and face off with whatever he could possibly come across. His random outburst seemed to catch Ponn and Master Sheikah off guard; Ponn threw her head back and laughed, while Master Sheikah just looked back and forth between Link and Ponn. Finally, she stood and shined her dagger, smiling at the survivor broadly. "I think he's ready to get going. There's no attitude finer than that that'll get him further in the temple." With that said and done, Master Sheikah had taken Link to the island in the middle of the lake and allowed him to open his eyes once they arrived there.

Link looked down off the steep hill at the single puddle of water below, under which he could see a tiled ground that he recognized as the Water Temple guarded by the Zoras. "What happened to it?"

Master Sheikah did not move to stand next to him. "Ganon's forces took every race and rammed their head into a guillotine," he replied. "He attacked the Gorons, the Marketplace folk, hell, even the innocent Kokiri children. Don't doubt his ability to see past empathy and sympathy and destroy all that he finds threatening and dangerous. He will rip the world apart if it means he gets what he wants. It only makes logical sense that the Zoras, the most graceful and sophisticated of the races, would be attacked next. He's running out of options." Master Sheikah looked down at his feet, and Link turned to him, only to find he was thinking deeply to himself.

After a few moments of silence, he looked up. "Hero," he said. "I have had an epiphany. I have to go." He turned, took two steps toward the bridge, stopped, and then turned back to Link. "You will need to travel across the Field of Hylia to visit Zora's Domain. I'll teach you the Serenade of Water so you may return here. " From the folds of his tight but padded Sheikah garb he pulled his lyre and played the song. Link mimicked it, and for a moment they were carried off into a world with a waterfall; and it was just the two of them and the beautiful music, and nothing stood between them.

And then a flash of light told Link that Master Sheikah was gone, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he realised that he had to open his eyes; sometime in that song, he had pulled them closed.

* * *

As Link emerged from the icy cave, his tunic and hair smelling thickly of the strange, sweet scent of blue fire, he felt coldness chill him. Jumping across icy platforms, he felt the iron boots in his pack bobbing as he jumped, but they did his range no harm and he sailed gracefully from platform to platform, finally landing on the ramp that would take him to the rock-brick place where he'd met Jabu-Jabu on his quest to save Princess Ruto. How long ago it seemed that it all occurred, back when he was just making friends outside of his comfort zone. Strange, how the past held nothing but his forging friendships and his future held nothing but the breaking of them, bonds that were precariously teetering on the edge anyway and were bound to fall at the tiniest urge.

It was this physical and mental coldness that made him feel no extreme joy on having thawed out the King of Zoras or having received a thank-you gift from His Grace. He left the throne room respectfully, wondering how a man could rule a place subdued by ice, before he pulled out his ocarina and played the tune that whisked him away to another place.

This time he was, himself, teetering precariously on the edge, looking down at the puddle below where he would have to immerse himself fully. He sighed and dropped his pack, knowing what he must do. He undid the belt at his waist and pulled it loose, leaving his tunic baggy over his body. He slid off his boots and settled them next to his pack. Then, he drew the tunic up over his shoulders, leaving him in naught but his white pants. The grass felt strangely soft beneath his bare toes, and he wiggled them tentatively, feeling their coolness and smiling in a wholly charmed fashion. He then adorned his blue tunic and refastened his belt, pulling at the buckle until it fit him snugly. He then slid on the iron boots, feeling the weights heavy on his feet. He packed everything else away and then looked down at the puddle, somewhat anxious. After a moment of tentative wavering, he finally let himself drop, falling gracefully into the water below.

He had his eyes closed the whole time he fell, and it gave him a huge sense of vertigo. He opened them when his heavy feet hit bottom and looked up, seeing a strange mechanism above a tightly bolted door. Taking out his hookshot, he aimed and shot the bottom of the mechanism and watched it float aimlessly to the surface. The door opened. Looking inside the temple, he turned and gave one last glance to the rainy surface of the water before heading inside.

After just a few feet of running, he hit a dead end. Looking up, he noticed the opening and switched his boots quickly, finding himself floating to the top. Getting out of the water and finding himself surprisingly dry—the gift he was given was a good one indeed!—he looked at the temple with a slight bit of awe. Finding a way down, he dropped to the first level and dashed for the nearest door to avoid confrontation as two metal contraptions rolled after him in the sand, spikes looking less and less enticing as they grew nearer.

He turned and slammed the door behind him when he got in, puffing and panting from his run and at a loss of what to do. Whatever the case was, at least he had a moment to reflect to himself and think it through until he came up with a gameplan…

"Oh, my…"

Surprised by the voice, he turned, brandishing his hookshot—all he had underwater—when he paused, noticing who it was. His surprise only grew rather than dissipated, and the person he was staring at let out a melodic laugh of surprise and benevolence.

"Link!" Ruto cried. "It's you! Do you remember me?" She ran to him and gave him a frightfully powerful hug, which Link was hesitant to return.

She pulled away and a smile stretched her face. Link had to look her over twice to get it through his head that it was Ruto; she looked so different from seven years ago. Her gawky, awkward body as a child had formed into a beautifully sculpted masterpiece of Zora heritage. Her eyes, once colourless and unimpressive, were now a shining purple that beamed out at him from her pale, beautiful face.

"Oh, my dear fiancée!" she cried happily, and Link felt a shockwave run through him as he remembered. "You've come to help me, haven't you? Everybody's frozen… My dad… Everyone. Sheik saved me as I was being swallowed by the ice, and that's why I'm free. But everybody else…" she trailed off, looking sadly at Link.

"Sheik?" he asked suddenly, and Ruto smiled.

"Yes, Sheik!" she said. "The Survivor of the Sheikah! He rescued me from my otherwise horrible fate and let me in here so that I may help you on your quest. Together, we need to defeat the evils of this temple and restore it to its former splendour and glory!" She glanced up at the ceiling—or at least, where one should've been. "I'm going on ahead; don't wait up, love!" She giggled before swimming upward. Link switched to his normal boots and floated up after her, watching all the strange doors go by. He finally ended up on the top level, seeing a door and the Royal Symbol embedded in the wall. He approached it, gently touching it, and pulled out his ocarina. With a feeling unknown to him, he played Zelda's song, but instead of Zelda, he caught himself thinking of someone else…

* * *

Piece by piece, Link put together the dungeon's puzzle, and though he accomplished it relatively quickly, it still posed a challenge for him. In each room, he was persecuted by a number of aquatic creatures with far more grace in the water than he did and fighting skill that impressed him greatly.

He was weary when he got to a room that required a key. He pulled it out and unlocked the door, hoping beyond hope that it was a sanctuary of some sort, a place where he could take refuge and regain his strength. He walked in the room and turned to shut the door, not holding his breath when he turned back around.

His eyes widened when he realised the room he'd just unlocked was indeed a sanctuary. The ground was nothing but water, far as the eye could see; not thick, like an ocean, but thin, like a clogged road after a spring rain. The walls seemed to have disappeared, along with any horizon to speak of, and so he was left with a world that melded sea and sky. Across from the door he had just entered was another door, standing up in a wall placed seemingly in thin air, and in the middle of this pool sat a tree, void of any life, but was raised on an island, and it was there that Link walked to take his refuge.

He sat, tired and desperate for escape, and leaned his back against the tree. He looked at the ground, watching the water reflect the top of the tree, stagnant in such a way that the reflection remained undistorted. He stretched his legs to avoid cramping and could see his boots, the earthy brown a stark contrast to the white, listless sky.

A ripple in the water shocked him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see what caused it; but saw nothing. He turned his glance around, wary, and he heard the sloshing of water behind him. He jumped to his feet, brandishing his blade and whirling to face whatever was behind him, but saw nothing. His hair stood on end as he looked about, frantically searching for the cause of this disturbance, but saw nothing.

Then, he heard a chuckle emanating from behind him once again, and turned, raising his sword, but he froze, the cry in his throat lodging itself there, when he saw who it was.

It could've been his reflection in the water, had it any colour or depth. Instead, it was black, slightly transparent in some places while totally opaque in others, and slightly shorter than Link, but only because he was on an oblique surface. But its garb matched his, its weapons matched his, and its eyes, though red as Din's flames, were just like his.

The smirk, however, was something he'd never seen before.

Link gawked at it for a minute, his sword still raised. That dark smirk raised into a grin. "Lower your weapon, Link," it said in his voice, but an octave lower. "I don't want to fight you. Not yet."

Link didn't know what to do. Surely he couldn't trust this thing… Could he? It seemed very unlikely to him that he was trustworthy; he was wielding a sword and smirking, and he had evil in his eyes. But he couldn't even think of a response for himself before a dark sword was raised to meet his and lowered it gently, in such a way that it twisted Link's wrist backward. With a loud bang, it clattered to the floor, and Link was left with naught but his shield and his shock, and only one of those was serving him in a positive way at the moment.

"What are you?"

Its grin turned into a full-fledged smile as it said with a tone if incredulity, "Why, Link; I'm you." Then, something savage crossed behind the flaming red orbs, but it was quickly subdued. "We must talk, my friend." He sheathed his weapon and opened his arms wide. His smile shone white in an otherwise dark space, and somehow it made Link wary. He took a step back. Instantly, the Dark Link frowned.

"Why, Link, do you not trust me?" he asked, taking a step toward Link, who, in turn, stepped back once more.

"In all honesty," Link said, kneeling down and picking up his sword, preparing himself for a fight. "Not in the slightest."

That savage look reappeared in his eyes, and combined with the smile, it confirmed Link's fears. He began to walk toward Link, who walked backward at the same pace. "You need to learn to trust more, Link," he said. "It's such a shame that you don't know who your friends are."

"But I do know," he replied. "And none of them are present." The dark Link paused and lowered his arms. His smile grew savage as his eyes and he pulled his sword out of its sheath, approaching Link in a stalking fashion.

"Oh, but you are so wrong," he replied, and Link felt a surge of terror as he gripped his sword tighter. "I am the only one who is harming you to survive. Without my efforts to stop you, you'd kill me in a heartbeat. But what about Ponphelle of Kakariko, hmm? How long until she betrays you, not to survive, but out of obligation, to save her village from imminent destruction? To save her people from chaos?" He stalked at a faster pace now, his head lowered but his gaze trained on Link, so his inquiring gaze turned into a sardonic glare. Link's stomach dropped at the mention of her name, his eyes widening considerably. "And what about the Sheikah? How long until he cuts your rope and sends you off, the only reason his mentor and friend died? When he gets revenge for your making him become the last Sheikah, then what will you do? Who are your real friends, Link?" His tone grew more sinister as he advanced more swiftly than before. Link slammed his eyes shut, his feet stumbling as he tried to increase his pace to match the encroaching shadow's. "Can you separate the truth from the lies?"

"Stop it!" Link grit his teeth and lunged at him. His sword hit air as the shadow dodged it and landed a blow in his side that sent him rocketing to his right—only then did he realise he was hit with the blunt part of the blade. He scrambled to his feet, finding the Dark Link already approaching, and so he tried to swing from the side, to cut his neck.

Suddenly, time seemed to freeze. His blade slowed considerably and the shadow smirked before he disappeared. Link suddenly felt a pressure on his blade and he looked up, seeing the shadow crouching on its blunt side. He leaned down, a normal speed, while Link was frozen in place. His dark eyes probed him a moment before scooping Link's stray bangs behind his ear and smiling. "Link," he said. "Everything they told you was a lie. Your future here was built on falsehoods and treachery. Have you ever thought that maybe Ganondorf is trying to help you, trying to uncover the dark secrets of The Royal Family, and, in doing so, liberate all of Hyrule and the world?"

Link couldn't speak, and so he did his best to glare. The shadow took the hint and its smile disappeared, replaced by another dark look, but this was more sinister than the savage glare he'd given him before; more calculated and cool. "I can see I'm not getting through to you. No worries. It takes a while for reason to penetrate genuine madness." He drew his sword and slammed the blunt side on Link's head, and, at that opportune moment, time seemed to unfreeze. The shadow backflipped off the blade to safety while Link crumbled to the ground.

Link tried to raise himself from the puddles adorning the ground, to prevent himself from inhaling water, and slowly got to his feet. He was dizzy from that blow and his wavering footsteps proved it. He ran at the Dark Link again, which only smiled. "You can't fight this, Link," he said, and Link swung his sword, but the shadow was gone, and he felt a boot in his left side, sending him staggering to the right. "You can't even fight me." He reappeared to the right and shoved Link to a sitting position on the ground. He then swirled to the front of him, catching his eye.

"The Sheikah will betray you!" he cried angrily, and Link noticed his white teeth were sharp. "How do you expect to fight off his advances when you can't even fight me? He has a horsemaster and a heritage of stealth at his disposal and you can't even fight yourself!"

"Sheik won't betray me…" he said, trying to stand again, but Dark Link whirled around and his heel connected with Link's jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"He will!" Dark Link countered, getting closer to Link, who was sprawled out in his sitting position. He was at a kneel between Link's spread knees and had his hands resting on his knees, his head cocked as if he were studying him. Link was dizzy and breathing heavily through his mouth, and his vision was blurred. He could only feel Dark Link's hand as it connected with his forehead, and suddenly his mind felt mixed up, as if someone was taking his memories and throwing them everywhere, overturning them. Ones with Sheik seemed to linger most, and suddenly Dark Link's voice came into his mind.

"What a shame," he said, and all Link could see was Sheik, Sheik, Sheik… "Such strong affection for one who is bent on your destruction."

"No," Link murmured, barely audible, his throat suddenly dry. But Dark Link paid him no mind, continuing with his monologue in a self-satisfied manner.

"How can you covet one who is so likely to destroy you?"

"He won't kill me…"

"He's going to rob you of everything…"

"He won't touch me…"

"He already took two of them, didn't he?"

"He won't hurt me…"

"And why is that?"

Link paused, and the memories suddenly rushed away from his vision, his eyes suddenly focusing on Dark Link, who was smirking, still kneeling over him.

"He will never feel the same, Link," he said, and suddenly Dark Link's hand dropped to his waist, scaling up his sensitive ribcage and resting there. He shifted so he was still on his own weight, but leaning over Link entirely. "He will never touch you, like you said. He will never, ever touch you like this." He grew closer to Link, who was slowly regaining his hazy senses, and brushed a dark hand over Link's cheek before pressing his lips to his.

Link scrunched his eyes and tried to pull away, but images flooded his mind and stilled him, images of things he'd never seen before; Sheik, looking down at him, a smile hidden beneath a mask; feeling Sheik's bare hand running down his arm; his breath scaling down Link's neck; Sheik's lips on his, pressing gently…

"Never touch you like this."

Link could hardly regain his senses, just now realizing the lips had pulled away and were now smirking at him in a manner of a superior to their inferior. "He will betray you. He'll use your feelings against you. It's a shame that you're so devoted to someone who will never love you back."

Link's hazy, half-lidded eyes slowly widened, and he tried to reach for his sword, but it was gone, and his shield was gone, too, and his bag was abandoned by the tree to begin with. He looked up at Dark Link's red eyes, so close to his. Suddenly, his hand moved, though, and something firmly planted itself in Dark Link's back. He coughed, let out a grunt and rolled off of Link and onto his side, reaching blindly for the arrow sticking out of his back. Link slowly stood, watching as the shadow began to fade into the water, stretching like blood in the water, dissipating entirely into it. He looked up at Link, his eyes no longer glowing, two balls of hardened lava, reminiscent of Sheik's, and Link felt a shiver roll up his spine as he spoke, his voice strangely close to Sheik's.

"Just remember what I said," he rasped. "Remember who your friends are. Someday, they'll all betray you. And then you'll regret not listening to me." He turned his face to the water and disappeared entirely.

Slowly, the room returned to normalcy. The illusion melted off of the walls and the tree sunk into the ground. The water drained slowly away to nowhere, but Link was not watching any of this. He was looking at the darkened arrow that lay abandoned on the ground. The shaft became ebony and the feathers adorning the end of it had become black and stiff, crow's feathers. The head of the arrow had become obsidian.

"And so the influence of darkness leaves its mark on me," Link murmured, picking up the arrow. His thoughts were elsewhere, but after a minour debate in his mind, he put it in his quiver, which remained on his back during the whole of their fight. Then, he headed back to where his things were laying, now in the middle of the dark-blue room. Looking back only once, he entered the next door and continued deeper into the dungeon.

* * *

_So, one of my friends on dA, after betaing this for me, tapped me on the shoulder and said, 'Is that incest?' to which I chuckled before blanking entirely and saying, 'No… f*ckin'… clue….' XD Kinda kept me staring at my monitor before whispering 'What have I done?' repeatedly to myself. Now I want to know what you guys think on that loverly issue, and I also wish to know what you think of this chapter. I'd be much pleased by your commentation on my work! Thanks!_


	6. Chapter 6

**The Inane Bystander – Chapter 6**

"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing.

**Disclaimer:** Hail to the Chief, he's the Chief and he needs hailing… Oh, and I don't own this franchise. Just a sidenote. XD

**Warning: **I did none of this to offend you! I didn't make the OC to get you angry! I didn't create Shounen Ai to make you upset! I didn't timeline tinker to piss you off! But I do smell muffins… XD So don't take this story personally! :D

**Random Crap: **Hey, everybody! I noticed that, in every chapter, under the warning, there was something else here. Well, I had nothing else to apologise for and no more questions on the meaning of life and fletching, so I wanted to keep the tradition alive by simply filling up this space with random crap. And now, since I've done that, it's off to the shoe… Fudge. Sorry, but sometimes, I type the word 'shoe' instead of 'show'. So I just keep it that way. Alright. Off to the show. Err, I mean on. XP

**Something Meaningful:** I want to know… Do you think Ponn is a Mary Sue? I just wanted to ask, because I tried to keep her humble by making her not too good at what she does. I think she seems relatively good, but authors often favour their own characters over others, so I just wanted your opinions. She doesn't seem too bad… does she?

**Okay, Gotta Shout Out Now: **Yadda-Freakin'-Ya, I read your review and it made me smile so much I couldn't help but do a dance. XD That was a perfect way to describe the last chapter! :D So what happened in the last chapter was 'an advanced form of masturbation'. Wow, that made my day. So, I send many thanks to Yadda-Freakin'-Ya, and everyone else who's read and reviewed!

* * *

**((Chapter 6: Ponn's Gift/Kakariko Burning [My Only Regrets]))**

Link had returned, later that night, from fighting Morpha, the amorphous monster of the Water Temple's dungeon, to find Ponn poking at a fire and Master Sheikah—Sheik, now—nowhere to be seen. She looked up once he got close enough and she smiled, the fire lighting her tan face in eerie ways. Her smile sunk, however, when she noticed the lag in his step and the way he threw himself down on the ground, sitting in a slouching manner and holding his hands to the fire.

After a moment of her staring at him, she scooted toward him. "Link," she said, and he looked at her. The fire flickered in her eyes, and he could see their concern clearly, despite the darkness. "Are you well?"

He looked at her a moment before sighing roughly and shaking his head. The sigh seemed sob-laced, almost as if he had feelings pent up for far too long. He looked back at the fire. "I'm sorry for being a damper on your mood, Ponn," he replied. "I had a disconcerting experience in the temple and I've been thoroughly disillusioned."

To his surprise, Ponn reached out and touched his hand. She was about to say something, but something else took its place in the silence. "Link, you're cold as ice," she said, staring at his hand before looking in his eyes. Then, she got up and walked to Arestol. He heard bags shuffling before a blanket suddenly swirled around his shoulders, and Ponn sat next to him, working on the straps on his damp boots. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes. You'll warm up faster." He looked at her, appreciation radiating from his gaze. She spent a few moments engrossed in this silently benevolent deed before looking in his eyes and pausing a quick moment, working on his other Kokiri boot. "Link," she said, and he looked in her eyes. "Would you like to tell me what happened to you in the dungeon?"

He hesitated in his reply, and it must've shown on his face, for she grew nearer to him and sat up straighter, resting her hands on her knees like a guardian watching over a child. "Link, I'm your friend. You can tell me everything and I shall hold it in the most respectful confidence."

_"You need to learn to trust more, Link. It's such a shame that you don't know who your friends are."_

He slammed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply, and Ponn's eyes widened. He shook his head before releasing his breath and slowly opening his eyes. They were clouded with something, and Ponn realised that whatever he faced in that dungeon really moved him. She grew a little closer to him and rested a hand on his blanketed knee. "Please, tell me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and he looked at her, infinite sadness in his gaze and his young features.

"While in that dungeon," he said, and she leaned once again to his feet, but her eyes were locked on his, showing she was paying attention. She slid his first boot off, and his cold, damp foot met the warm fireside with sublime pleasure. "I was wearied. I had been running from every creature imaginable for quite a few days now, and I had no idea where I could possibly run to gain rest. I unlocked another complicated door and went inside. I saw a paradise; utopia in being. But within that paradise laid a maggot, a parasite that attacked me, not with weapons, but with words…" He looked back up to her, despair present in his eyes.

"He used my eagerness to fight against me; he found ways to get me fighting and make me freeze. His words were agonizing, their effects hazing my brain as he tried to poison my mind and make me doubt everything I thought was real and right. He told me of you, and how you would betray me to save Kakariko, and of Master Sheikah, and how he would betray me for revenge." He clenched his hands together and squeezed them, slamming his eyes shut.

"And I believed him," he whispered brokenly. "For a few seconds, I believed him. Goddesses, I believed him! I shouldn't have, I should have defended you, I should have defended him, but I couldn't! I couldn't because this thing that poisoned my thoughts touched my temple once—just once!—and knew all my weaknesses! It knew my sorrows and it knew my pain, and it felt sorry for me! It was trying to liberate me, trying to educate me on how things really were versus how they could be!" He stopped a moment, and then looked at Ponn, addressing her directly.

"Ponn," he said, "the one person someone believes above all others is themself, regardless of who they're with or what their personal predicaments are. If no one else, people always trust themselves. But this thing made me doubt even myself, Ponn. It wore my face and bore my voice, and it talked to me of things I have yet to understand! And then it probed me and searched me, and took me in its arms, and told me things… Told me things I don't even understand. It knew me better than I know myself. And when it died… When I finally got to stab an arrow into its back… It took on Master Sheikah's eyes and voice and warned me to listen to it, or else I'd perish…"

His shut eyes shed tears. Ponn removed his other boot and sat there, her eyes darkening as she patiently took in his sorrows.

"I didn't get it, Ponn," he said. "The one thing he found it prudent to use against me… Was…"

His mind raced back to that moment when all he could see was Sheik, when he was hopeless under the influence of dark power and prowess; when Dark Link found out everything, delved into his mind and found what Link himself had not even begun searching for yet.

_"What a shame… Such strong affection for one who is bent on your destruction."_

"Was what, Link?" Ponn asked, putting a hand on his to comfort him.

"He used Master Sheikah," he said, looking up at Ponn again, and her eyes widened. "He claimed I was devoted to him, that I coveted him, and that I loved him. And he… He told me…" When Dark Link's hand had brushed up his ribcage and he'd wanted so badly that Sheik would be there, running his lips down his neck and across his collarbone... "He told me, when he…" He hesitated, biting his lip, and was furrowing his brows when Ponn laid a finger on his lips, and his cloudy eyes suddenly cleared, looking at her with surprise filling their sapphire depths.

"You needn't tell me more than you can bear," she said in a soft, soothing voice, a tone he had not heard her take since he met her on the mountain. "I can understand if it's hard for you to tell me all at once. When your mind is uprooted and twisted, especially by one as trustworthy as an image of yourself, it can leave you disoriented. Don't worry," she said, when Link opened his mouth to speak, but she hushed him with a second finger added to the first. "I won't tell Master Sheikah anything you've said. I won't speak a word of it to him. For all he knows, you encountered the temple's demons with little trouble at all and emerged unscathed. If he finds you upset, we can say it's because of this," she said, unravelling the bandage on her hand to reveal a cut across her pale, sickly-grey palm. She pressed the skin just below the lower flap, which puckered into an unhealthy shade of red, and green pus oozed out between the red, swollen bits of skin. Link's eyes widened, but she wrapped it again, and he watched the bandage scale her arm, noticing she wrapped more of it than before. Whatever was ailing her was spreading. He knew it was no mere infection, but said nothing.

"He'll never know," she said, and she smiled at him, finishing her wrapping quickly. "Now, you need to lay by the fire and rest. You are disoriented and troubled. I shall keep watch of you and make sure you warm up alright. When you wake tomorrow, I shall have a present for you." She smiled at him, then got up and pulled a cot close to the fire. She stood Link up and undressed him down to his white pants, then slid him back under the blanket she'd given him. He watched as she used the nearby tree to hang his damp clothes after wringing them out, and she sat down by the fire, near Link's feet. The last thing he remembered seeing before he closed his eyes was Ponn, pulling out an instrument he'd never seen before; like a lyre, but much less mobile. She attached a pick to her thumb before playing a folk song and singing quietly. He slowly faded…

_"Where darkness lingers, I shall not,  
The fire is warm, and the food is hot…"_

…into a deep and dreamless sleep.

_"And you shall dream of things far off,  
And no burden shall you carry…"_

* * *

When Link woke up, Ponn was just walking back into camp. The morning sun lit the horizon like a strange fire, and Ponn's hair glowed with a copper light. "G'morning!" she said in a chipper fashion. She looked worn out, as if she'd just undergone strenuous activity. "I was just out putting the finishing touches on your present." Link cocked an eyebrow at her in a confused manner, and she scoffed at him. "What," she asked, "did you forget or something? Leave it to you to be too sleepy to remember what I said. I told you I'd have a present for you when you woke up!"

"It's not that I forgot," Link said, smiling and sitting up, stretching his bare, Hylian skin. "It's that I didn't believe you."

She let out a 'psssh' noise and waved her hand dismissively. "Never doubt me when it comes to giving presents. I only wish to see people happy. I figure you could use an extra dosage of happiness, after last night."

"Alright," he said, turning to her fully and crossing his legs under the blanket, feeling the cool morning grass between his overheated toes. He felt warmer than ever, and it was all thanks to Ponn and her miraculous warming powers. He chuckled inwardly at the thought of Ponn setting fire to Sheik if he said one more cocky thing and roasting him over the spit, a display of the threat she always yelled to Sheik after he did something to inflate his ego. Ponn would indeed be evil with the power of the flame… "Where is this mighty present of yours?"

She picked up his ocarina, which was drying with the rest of the things in his pack—Ponn must've laid everything out to dry, he realised thoughtfully—and threw it to him. "Why don't you call her and find out?"

He caught it and looked at it, then back at her. His messy blonde hair fell over his eyes, and he pushed them back with his free hand. "You have to teach me the song first, Ponn," he said. "That's how these things work."

She threw her head back and laughed while pulling a loaf of bread from one of her numerous packs. "I believe you already know it! But fine," she said, pulling out her instrument again and slipping the pick over her finger. "I shall play it and she'll come running; and I'll ruin the shock and awe of the surprise." Her tone was exasperated, but her smile showed its false nature, and she smiled as she strummed her instrument; three quick, successive notes. She repeated them twice.

As he heard the notes the first time, Link's eyebrows furrowed at the feeling of familiarity he got from listening to it, but the second time around he realised what it was, especially when he heard a neigh and the swift gallop of a horse over the hillside. He looked incredulously at Ponn, who was smiling at him as Epona the loyal horse ran down the hill and underneath the overhang next to the entrance of the Gerudo Valley before coming to a stop next to Ponn, who pat her leg gently. Link stood, still in his night clothes, and came to stand in front of Epona, reaching a hand out slowly to her muzzle. She nickered in response and nudged his palm in a loving manner, her muzzle smooth to the touch. Link smiled broadly down at Ponn.

"How'd you…?" he asked. Ponn shrugged.

"I'm not the best horse racer out there, despite being a horsemaster," she said. "But I make a fine bodyguard. I agreed with Malon that if she raced this horse and won it against Ingo, then I would protect her and defend her from his blatant attacks. After seeing my skill with a bow on foot and horseback, she agreed. We liberated the Lon-Lon Ranch and sent Ingo back to his humble persona. Then, there was only the small matters of returning Talon to his rightful place in the ranch and hiding Epona from you until one of us played her song." She held her grin and stood up. She faced Epona and began stroking her shoulder blade as Epona leaned down to graze on a rather large tuft of grass by her feet. "I like to think of it as a late birthday present; you're seventeen, and I missed so many of your birthdays."

Link smiled at her. "Thanks," he said, "but you really didn't have to. Honestly."

She looked at Epona before pushing her muzzle softly, causing her to turn and join Arestol a ways away from camp. "I know," she replied, watching Epona go before suddenly turning to look at Link, her emerald eyes twinkling. "But, truth be told, I did it more for me than for you."

Link laughed. "Oh, is that so?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Because I wanted you to know something that I didn't know how to say." She stepped closer to him, and he felt his cheeks grow hot. He had never been this close to Ponn without one of them being in some sort of trauma, and it seemed strange to him to get close to her.

"What's that?" he dared to ask, something on his voice saying he wasn't prepared for anything, but he'd take what he got and react the way his mind said to.

"Loathe as I am to admit it, you've gotten under my skin," she replied, a soft smile on her face. "I owe you so much more than I can pay. You're a good friend and a trustworthy confidant and I can't see the light of day without you in it. Truthfully, honestly, you're my second friend, and you've never steered me wrong. I like you." She grinned, but it was a platonic grin, and he felt the heat leaving his cheeks, thankful for her lack of making awkward love triangles.

"Just your second? No more than that?" Link asked incredulously.

Ponn pouted in response. "I'm not quite as popular as you, Link, for your information," she said, a teasing scowl on her features. "But yes. Just my second. I don't need any more."

Link smiled. "Was your first friend Sheik, by any chance?" he asked, hoping to inconspicuously drop a hint.

She grinned. "Indeed it was, you competent—" She paused, looking at him with wide eyes. "You know his name." It was a statement said in a surprised but calm voice.

Link nodded in response. "I found out from Ruto in the Water Temple." To his surprise, Ponn just scowled playfully again.

"Zoras," she scoffed in a quiet voice, "just about as trustworthy with a secret as gossip stones. The moment I re-meet Ruto, there'll be the devil to pay."

Link let loose another laugh. "It'd be hard to catch her, considering she's the Sage of Water," he replied, and Ponn growled, causing him to chuckle as he headed toward his clothes, checking if they were dry.

"Good riddance, then!" she finally cried, stomping back to the fire and flopping down to a seat. "Snobby Zora princess decides to run and hide from me in another dimension, eh? I'll still get her somehow. Probably too chicken to face the music…" She continued grumbling while Link deemed his clothes nearly dry (they were that uncomfortable dampness that nobody enjoys, especially in a windy field) and returned to his bed, pulling his blanket around his shoulders once again and watching Ponn poke the fire. After a few moments of silence, Link spoke.

"Where's Sheik?" he asked, and Ponn raised her gaze to him.

"When he gets back from Kakariko, you'd better specify that it wasn't me who told you what his name was, but Ruto, got it? He'll whip me to pieces if he thinks it's me." Link laughed.

"Got it," he said between chuckles, and he picked up his ocarina, which was nearest him, and began to play random songs, little snippets of songs he knew all strung together messily. Ponn stopped her fire-poking to listen.

After a few moments of his playing, she coughed a little, and he looked at her.

"I, erm," she said, unsure of how to go about asking her question. She was nervous, wringing her hands in her tunic before smoothing it and finally speaking. "I like one of the songs you played. C-Could you teach it to me?"

Link smiled benevolently. "Sure, which one?"

Ponn's cheeks turned red as she hummed what Link recognized to be the Serenade of Water. His smile grew as he played it on his ocarina, and she repeated after him. Soon, the lesson was learned, and she smiled.

"Thank you, Link," she said gratefully, and he nodded, still smiling.

"I'm glad to have taught you," he replied, and they shared a grin, but at that time, a distant distressed neigh echoed through the field, and someone wearing dark garb flew over the hillside, riding a white stallion as swiftly as it would go. Ponn stood abruptly and reached for her bow, but paused when the person got closer, finally standing up straight when they stopped next to her. Their dark, torn cape flowed back behind them on the horse and the heavy hood covered their face. With one swift motion, they removed the hood and suddenly Sheik was there, sitting on the white stallion.

"Ponn, grab your medicine and provisions," he said, and she dashed off immediately, no questions asked, and Sheik turned to Link, who had stood once he saw it was Sheik, and saw his eyes flick over him quickly before saying, "Get some clothes and bring your weapons, Hero."

"What's going on?" Link asked, not budging until he got an answer. Sheik chuckled, but it sounded strained.

"In case you can't tell by searching the horizon," he said, giving Link an even gaze. "Kakariko's on fire."

* * *

That was how it came to be that Link and Ponn were soon galloping across the field on Epona and Arestol, Ponn carrying medicines of the utmost importance and Link carrying his weapons, ready to fight whatever caused this. Sheik said he was much needed in the village and Ponn had sent him on ahead, and so when they arrived, they tethered their horses close to where Sheik had his and ran up the stairs to the village.

When they rounded the corner and entered the fragile gates, Link noticed he was right; the whole village was aflame. Smoke clouded the otherwise brilliant sky and ash fluttered in the breeze like brittle, tarry snow. The ground was littered with debris and miscellaneous objects, and Link looked around, at a loss for what to do.

Meanwhile, Ponn jumped into the action almost immediately, noticing two children holding hands and scrambling for the exit. They were just at the tree standing alone in the front of the village when it snapped, having already caught fire, and teetered toward them. Ponn dropped everything she had, ran, and dove like a cheetah, curling around both the children and rolling out of the way as the burning tree fell onto the ground with a roar that sounded like thunder. She instantly stood, helping them up and examining them, brushing away the weeping children's tears before picking up the smaller one and holding the other's hand as they manoeuvred the new obstacle and ended up next to Link. She ushered them down the stairs and told them to go on the opposite side of the river.

"I have an errand to send you on," she said to them before she let them go. Link listened to her gentle voice and realised she was trying to distract them; to not panic them. "We have three beautiful ponies out there, alright? If you could whistle a song for me, and then move the ponies to the other side of the river, they'll protect you from everything bad out there, okay?" The eldest—a little boy—nodded, and she hummed Epona's Song to him. Though shaky, he echoed it perfectly, and she kissed his cheek and gave him a smile before he turned and, taking his sister's hand, tottered off down the stairs.

Then, Ponn's persona changed again. She picked up her belongings and ran to the nearest person lying on the ground, checking their vitals and tending to them. Link noticed that she was rounding up the villagers and calming them by asking her to assist them; 'carry this man over there, where it's safe', 'help this woman over there, she's limping', 'help me pick this up off of his leg', and, one by one, she filtered the villagers to the place across the river, safe from flames.

Meanwhile, Link looked for Sheik. He ran in many directions, but every time he saw a flash of Sheikah garb, it was gone in an instant. As the crowds thinned considerably due to Ponn's admirable behaviour, Link found it easier to manoeuvre through the ruined streets, and soon he was back where he started. Looking around, he finally saw Sheik, who was stationary and staring at the well.

"Master Sheikah!" he cried, but just as he got to him, Sheik turned to him, a frantic look in his eye.

"No, Link, get back!" he cried, but a roar sounded above the din of crackling flame, and a strange aura seeped out of the well. Then, suddenly, it grabbed Sheik about the waist and flung him relentlessly every which-way. Link watched, horrified, as he was violently thrown in the air and collapsed on the ground a few feet down the stairs.

"Sheik!" Link ran to him, trembling with shock as the aura whirled around and scaled the houses of Kakariko, turning around to charge them once again. He knelt by him, but only for a second before he heard the air rush at the disturbance of the aura and looked up, drawing his sword and wielding his shield. He heard Sheik move behind him, groaning and looking up before reaching to Link.

"Link…" he groaned in his half-conscious state, but the aura rushed them both. Sheik could only hear Link's cries of pain, but could only see blackness. Finally, it all ended with silence and darkness.

Ponn re-entered the village, doing a sweeping scan to find any missing villagers, and looked upon the two of them sprawled out on the ground. She paled, ran to them, and skid to her knees next to Sheik. She flipped him over, pressing two fingers to his neck and tentatively rubbing his ribs to check for any cracks or bruises. Sheik's eye quickly shot open and his hand darted to grab hers, but she slapped his wrist and he paused, blinking, before looking at Ponn.

"Thousand 'pologies…" he murmured, voice cracking from fatigue and weariness. "Glad y'remembered that'ol thing I sh'd you."

"You only tried this twice during nightmares, Sheik," Ponn replied, smiling in relief. "Can you handle yourself?"

"Mm'fine, take c're of Link," he said, and she nodded, crawling over to him. She checked his vitals, too, and his ribs, to make sure he had no lung punctures.

"He's alright," she said, standing and turning to Sheik, who was sitting. "I'm going to lead the Kakariko villagers to a safe spot in Hyrule Field. I trust you with Link. Be here for him when he wakes up and don't let him out of your sight," she said, and she jogged to the front of the village.

Sheik shook his head vigorously, rubbing his temple as he got to his feet. He looked at Link, who remained sprawled across the ground. He slowly walked to him and kneeled next to him, looking over his sharp features and his body, his chest evenly heaving in and out from the strain of the fight.

"At least you're still alive," he murmured, brushing Link's hair from his eyes gently and giving a slight smile, invisible underneath his Sheikah garb.

_That's a great plus, isn't it? I would've sobbed hysterically if he had died before us._

Sheik deadpanned. "There's no possible way you've come back to torment me."

_It's not torment, it's brutal honesty._

Sheik scoffed. "Brutal honesty, is it? Then why aren't my feelings hurt?"

_Not that kind of brutal honesty. I'm not talking about the kind of brutal honesty that hurts people's feelings. I'm talking about uncensored honesty; the kind that you tell people things that would've otherwise been left unspoken._

Sheik just shook his head. After a moment of gazing at the Hero of Time, his conscience spoke again.

_Called it._

Sheik furrowed his eyebrows. "Pardon me?" he asked, slightly turning away from Link.

_I told you I'd call it when you actually fell in love with the Hero of Time, didn't I?_

Sheik couldn't help but feel his blush radiate off his cheeks and bounce off his facemask. "I am **not** in love with him!" Then, realizing he spoke rather loudly, he turned to Link to make sure he didn't wake up from that. He didn't even stir, bless him.

_Then why do you keep gazing at him like that, huh? You've done it twice now, checking him over and making sure he's okay. And do I detect a flicker of worry for our unconscious friend? What about that ocular groping back at the campsite? When he wasn't wearing a tunic or a hat?_

Sheik could **_feel _**his conscience grinning mischievously at him, and he grit his teeth. Before he could retort, however, he was cut off by his conscience's talkative mannerism. He didn't understand how he, one who talked so little, had a conscience that talked so much.

_Face it, Master Sheikah; when you yelled his name to him to try to save him from Bongo Bongo, you had lost the fight right then and there, didn't you? Don't be worried, though, he's in love with you too._

Sheik quirked an eyebrow, ignoring the first sentence entirely and thinking it untrue. "Oh, really? And how do you know that?"

_Well, Link seems to know your name now. That shows that he has an acute interest in getting to know you better. Also, to tell you the truth, when he brandished his sword and stood in front of you, he was trying to **protect** you. He wasn't doing it for the heroics; he was doing it for you._

Sheik chuckled, as if he severely doubted anything his conscience said and was merely humouring him by listening, and even tacked on a harrumph just for giggles. But he looked at Link, vividly remembering the episode that happened just moments ago and finding the evidence hard to repel. Link had, in fact, run in front of him and tried to fight that which he could not see. To protect Sheik? It could just be possible…

_Are you finally coming around? My reasoning's sound enough to take you on anytime, anywhere, if you disagree._

Sheik chuckled. "I still don't believe you, but whatever you want to ramble is what I shall let you. Don't expect me to pay much attention."

_Suit yourself, stubborn bastard. _

Link stirred. It was that faint motion people acquired when they first wake up after something traumatic happened. A jolt that, if necessary, will send them back into the fray prepared.

But this time it wasn't necessary. Link fluttered his eyes open and looked about.

"Looks like you're coming 'round," Sheik said, and Link looked at him. Sheik watched as his wary, sapphire orbs flicked over him, checking him for any wounds. "Don't worry, Link," he said, and Link looked into his eyes again. "Bongo Bongo only hurt me as much as he had to. He's probably in the Shadow Temple now."

"Bongo Bongo," Link murmured. "Is that what that thing is called? What the hell is it, I mean, why couldn't we see it?"

"Bongo Bongo is invisible," Sheik replied. "He cloaked himself until he could get to his source of power; the Shadow Temple. Speaking of which, I should teach you the melody that will help you return to the temple." He pulled his lyre out as he spoke and strummed the strangely unnerving tune on it, listening to Link as he repeated it using his ocarina. The song died on the wind like an aching whine, and Link was glad to see it go. He decided he'd only use that when he had to.

"I should probably get going, huh?"

Sheik nodded. "It would be wise to tame him before he runs rampant again—"

"Come with me."

Sheik looked at Link, his one visible eye widened to a point of surprise. It was an expression he'd never seen the stoic helper acquire before.

"Pardon me?"

"Come with me to the temple. I mean, how bad can it be?"

"Link," Sheik began, uncertain of how to word it. "If I go in that temple, I'll die. I'm not as strong as you credit me to be. The things that lie within that temple are things only you can see; I'd be just a hindrance if I came along."

Link seemed confused. "But I couldn't even see Bongo Bongo. How am I suddenly able to see everything in the temple if I can't see it out here?"

Sheik cast a glance to the well. "By now, Link, you should have uncovered the fact that time is like a flowing river…" he began, his voice feeble. He'd always feared telling Link this, but it was necessary now. There was always the chance that he'd go back and stay there… He stilled his insecurities and pressed on. "You can follow the flow of time and go to the future… Or fight the tides and swim to the past. Only you have the ability to successfully follow the flow of time or fight it. Go back in time, Link, and come here. A storm should help you drain the well. Go inside and retrieve that which will help you see everything."

"Wait," Link said, his face a thousand unique emotions. "How do I go back?"

"You were incubated for some time in the Sacred Realm after pulling the sword from its pedestal. If you return it, you should go back to who you were."

Link looked at Sheik, mystified by this information. Then, he slowly nodded in understanding. "Alright," he finally said, and he began down the steps from the well. Sheik turned to watch him go, and made the biggest mistake of his life.

"Link, wait."

Obedient as a child, Link turned around and looked at Sheik. His eyes inquired what his lips did not say.

Sheik hesitated before saying, "You always have the option of staying there. If you choose to leave the sword in the pedestal you will have to wait the seven years required for events to happen before returning here. The future will not be lost, because it hasn't happened yet."

Link looked at him before nodding, his blonde hair wavering slightly at the motion, and then he turned and ran off, disappearing from Sheik's sight in mere seconds. Ponn soon came through the gate herself, approaching Sheik with her dutiful swiftness that she usually carried when she wanted answers.

"Where's he going?" she asked. Sheik looked to her, knowing she'd be somewhat disappointed with his answer.

Despite being his aid in all things that kept him alive, he hadn't told her much of what he did, save the fact that he was to teach the Hero of Time songs to teleport to the temples. In truth, that was only a quarter of his job; he was also to instruct him whether or not he needed to go back in time and where he needed to be, what he needed to get there being of importance as well. She knew not of time being something Link could travel back and forth in, and breaking it to her without letting her think that he'd stay there if he was given the chance—truth be told, he had no idea how Ponn would react.

_Only one way to find out, I suppose._

"He's going to the Temple of Time," Sheik replied, putting a hand to his nose. "He's going back in time."

He had his eyes closed to avoid her devastated expression. There was a few moments of agonizing silence before she murmured, "Is he… coming back?"

"I don't know."

He opened his eyes to see Ponn with a rather pensive expression on her features, but he could also detect fear, worry, and sadness in there. She was good at that; putting the healthiest expression on first and speckling it with her true feelings. Sometimes, Sheik had to squint to see what was really going on inside her head.

Finally, she spoke. It seemed like millennia later, but she spoke. "I'm sure he'll be back soon." She was trying to reassure herself, not him, but he nodded, humouring her.

"If he's loyal to his friends, he should be."

Ponn nodded this time, and silence reigned over them. Deep in their thoughts, they could not detect the encroaching darkness until it was too late.

A wave of dark matter arced over Ponn, but Sheik caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and dove at her, pushing her out of the way as the darkness swooped down and grabbed at her, but caught Sheik instead.

"**_Monster Sheikah,_**" a dark voice cried, the articulate beast's tone of voice disgusted. "**_You have gotten in the way of myself and my prey two times now, and I shall make you pay for your impudence._**" The darkness began to carry Sheik away, sedating him to the point of which he was pale. Ponn got up and began to run after him, calling his name as she did so. The darkness swirled over the entrance to the graveyard, and she paused, panting and hyperventilating before turning to run and find help—and smashing into someone.

Being already a little freaked out, she yelled in surprise and drew her dagger from her leg, swinging up like an arc, but her wrist was caught and a hand pressed her shoulder gently. She looked up at the face of the man who caught her hand and dropped her dagger, nearly dissolving to sobs.

_What a day._

"Ponn, what's wrong?" Link asked, seeing her mortified expression. "What's going on? Where's Sheik?"

She shook her head and caught her breath before replying, "Sheik's been taken to the Shadow Temple by Bongo Bongo. He came back, seeking revenge against Sheik. We have to help him, Link. Bongo Bongo is a formidable foe."

Link was shocked at this news and his face grew grave. "We have to save him, you're right," he murmured. "But are you certain you want to go with me? Sheik said it was too dangerous for anybody but me."

Ponn returned his concerned gaze with a confident one of her own. "I'm absolutely positive that I'll weather this temple five times over just to get him back, if that's what you're asking." She slung her medical supplies on her shoulder and nodded to him. Link nodded back, but froze a second, clearly deep in thought.

Ponn looked at him and gave a small frown in his direction. "Link," she asked, and he looked at her again. "Something the matter?"

Link nodded, then looked at Kakariko around him. Some of the houses were in ashes, smouldering still under the influence of oxygen and the open air. "My only regret about this, Ponn," he said sadly. "Are not the people we missed or the darkness let loose. It's the fact that I hadn't listened to myself in that temple… This happened because of me…"

Ponn slammed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up. "That demon only foresaw what he did because of the dark influences behind his mind. You did nothing wrong by ignoring what he told you." Link took a moment to look in her eyes before nodding, and they finally headed toward the graveyard together.

* * *

_Great! Sheik's been captured, everybody's all freaked out, and Ponn's losing it. Maybe she'll prove her worth in this dungeon… XD Thanks for reading, and I have to say, I'm happy Sheik's wayward conscience made a comeback. Tee-hee!_


	7. Chapter 7

**The Inane Bystander – Chapter 7**

"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing.

**Disclaimer:** Gewwwwwdddd Moooooooooooornin' Hyruuuuuule! XD Yeah, not mine. Neither is the thing I spun this quote off of. :D

**Warning: **There's an OC, gay men EVERYWHERE, and some very doubtable timeline tinkering. OH NOES. IT'S RAININ' MEN! XD

**I Would Like To Thank the Academy: **I really want to thank all of my readers in general, but there are a few people I wish to point out specifically, for without their encouragement, I would not continue writing this story.

I'd love to thank Sheikah Ninja, for giving me such positive reviews. You are kinda a Sheikah to me; a silent instructor lingering in the shadows. I kinda imagined, when you said 'Write on', you standing underneath the shade of a tree, leaning against the trunk and waving your hand at me to continue in an impassive manner. That really put a spring in my step and a song in my heart. Thanks for your encouragement. :D

I'd also like to point out Icy Sapphire15, who loves my Link/Dark Link twincest. You kind of emboldened me to go down the darker path in some parts; this chapter, I definitely owe to you. Without your support of that darker chapter, I definitely would've trod the beaten path, so to speak, and done what I did in all the other chapters with the exception of that one. You inadvertently told me that not all stories have to be happy-go-lucky. I thank you for that. :D

And, finally, I'd like to thank Yadda-Freakin'-Ya once again, this time for assuring me that Ponn was not a useless piece of crap. That really made me happy, to know I made someone who was of use to the plot and still is, without being a mother-duckin' Mary Sue.

In addition, I'd like to thank all the reviewers I have thus far: Venerable Sage of Fortune, i-wish-799, xBeyondxBirthriceballx, xXBloodyAppleXx, Spiritual Stone, and darkwolflink1, whose aid helped nurture and foster this creation. I love you guys lots, even though it seems creepy. But I think, because we're all writers, it's okay to be creepy. :D

* * *

**((Chapter 7: Light in Shadow))**

They didn't know what time of day it was in this temple. Ponn had estimated that they'd been there quite a while. Link guessed two days, which had elicited a scoff from Ponn. "You'd hope so, wouldn't you?"

Throughout the temple's trials, Ponn had survived and proved her worth. They had seemingly cut a path through the temple, facing ReDead and Keese with every turn, and it seemed as if they were making astounding progress. But it was with a crestfallen face that Link discovered himself back in the main room; they had cut a pathway back somehow.

"Do you suppose," Ponn said, and Link looked to her. "Those boots of yours have any special qualities about them?"

Link looked at the strange boots he had in his hand. He'd unearthed them from a chest in this dungeon and thought them odd; adorned at the bottom with gold that coated the front and licked up the sides and heel, they formed two wings on both sides and were too slippery to run with. Link thought them merely stylish. "I suppose we ought to try something, right?" he said, and he slipped the boots on while Ponn approached a bird statue to examine it. She gazed at it for a moment before touching it, and her eyelids fluttered shut a moment before she let her hand fall to her side and her eyes opened. Then, she looked around at the unlit torches around her.

Link stood up, taking a hesitant step with the boots and nearly slipping. He looked at Ponn. "What'd you hear?" he asked, knowing all too well at this point that the dungeon walls spoke strange wonders to anyone who was prepared to listen, and Ponn seemed to be their prey as much as he was.

She looked at him, her emerald eyes glowing eerily in the light of the dungeon. "It told me to point it at the right torch, but gave no indication as to how to know which one was correct."

Link felt this was a problem easily remedied as he pulled out his eyeglass rimmed in purple with three red spikes on it. In the centre of it was a pupil, a cat's slit of red floating in a dark fog. He held the lens up to his eye and looked around at the various lampposts standing there, unlit. He noticed one with a skull near it; removing his lens, he pointed to that one, and Ponn nodded, readying her strength before turning the statue to face the lantern.

Across the room, a noise sounded, and they were surprised to see the platform across from them extended, a long tongue hanging from the mouth of a beast. It stopped rumbling and the last of the dust fell before Ponn scoffed. "That's too far to jump to!" she cried, frustrated. "Did they expect us to be lemurs or something?"

Link stared at the odd development before glancing down at his boots, seeing the fashion faux pas wings in a whole new light. He looked up at Ponn, but her back was to him, facing toward the puzzle at hand. "Maybe we could…" she began, but trailed off, crossing her arms and putting a hand to her chin. Link took this silent moment to back up, looking up to see Ponn still standing there.

"Ponn," he said, and she turned to look at him, instantaneously backing out of the way when she saw his crouching stance. He nodded his thanks and ran, the boots suddenly gaining friction as he ran to the edge. His heart seemed to leap as he approached it, but he kept going, until eventually he noticed the edge passing him by; but, strangely, he was still running. A loud, almost celestial hum filled the air, as pure as a sound could be. He felt himself grin at the angelic noise.

His sudden feeling of elation was crumbled as the ground suddenly disappeared from underneath his feet. With reflexes he was still discovering, he reached for the platform and caught it precariously with his hands, pulling himself up and feeling light with the boots on. He turned to look at Ponn; the space between them was suddenly very large and very real with the hissing of the spirits floating aimlessly in the dungeon.

Ponn looked surprised at this sudden development. It was apparent by the expression on her face that she thought the boots a pair of fashion faux pas too, and nothing more.

"Ponn," he said, formulating a plan. "I'm going to slip on my iron boots so I'm basically tethered to this ledge. You need to wear this," he added as he took off his belt and threw it across the abyss. She caught it easily in her hand and gazed at it before looking back at him and nodding. She secured it around her waist, but loosely, as if she knew what he was going to do.

He slid off the hover boots and put the iron boots on, then pulled his longshot from his pack. With the aim he was usually accustomed to, he aimed at Ponn's waist, where she held the belt taut between her hands. He released the spring-loaded contraption and it shot toward her waist, hit the tightly-strung belt, and whirled around it twice before yanking her across the abyss. It was such a quick action that she had no time to lose momentum, and she was soon smashing into Link, who fell due to the lack of movement from his boots.

Ponn instantly got off of him and held a hesitant hand to him, tickled pink by the odd position they landed in. "Thanks," she said as he was pulled to his feet and sliding out of the heavy boots. "Y'know, for bringing me over."

"No problem," came his reply, and he stood, once again wearing his normal Kokiri boots. He sighed, shaking his shoulders as if releasing some kind of kink before they entered the hallway.

They walked slowly, almost tentatively down this stretch of hallway, cautious of every sound they heard and every gust of stale air that circulated in the trapped environment. Finally, they came to a statue quite like the last one, and a few unlit torches around it as well. Ponn grinned as Link held the Lens of Truth to his eye and pointed to the real torch. Ponn moved the statue as such, and the only door in the room unlocked. Link moved toward it, and Ponn followed.

Upon entering the room, Link ducked behind his shield, and Ponn followed suit, rolling off to the side as she looked up and saw a Beamos, a strange, one-eyed machine, gazing about the room in its usual circular manner. Ponn grinned as she crawled, spider-like, on the ground toward Link. She reached into his pack as the Beamos looked back at them, and it made a strange whirring noise before it began to shoot lasers at her. She rolled back to her original position, just out of its range. She was still clutching what she stole from his pack, and Link saw her biting the wax off of the top of the wick and lighting it before tossing the bomb to the base of the Beamos. Within a few seconds, the machine exploded, and its head flew into the air, exploding as it returned to earth.

Link looked at Ponn and gave her a grin, standing up. "So…" he said as she spit the wax she had on her teeth out of her mouth. She gave him a small glance after she did so. "Have you encountered things like this before?"

"What, dark creatures?" she asked, totally engrossed in the tedious task of ridding her mouth of Goron wax-cappings before nodding. "Yeah, I've had my fair share of time on the field, if that's what you mean."

"More than Sheik, do you think?" he asked, and she scoffed.

"No, of course not," she replied. "Such is his way; running into creatures is his forte, not mine." It seemed she got the last of the wax from her teeth, for she rubbed them with her tongue to check them over once more.

Link decided to press his luck as he mounted his shield on his back. "Then what gave you that horrible wound on your hand?"

Ponn instantly darkened, her left hand, which was once lying on her hip, falling uselessly to her side again. The bandage now wound up to her elbow and the palm was slightly green from where she walked on all fours on the ground, putting her battered palm to work and oozing pus to pay the price. Her eyes met his with a solemnity he would never banish from his mind. She picked up her left arm, barely capable of bending at the elbow anymore, and cradled it in her other arm, her eyes not leaving his. "Which way are we to go?" she asked, and he pulled the Lens of Truth from his pack, holding it to his eye.

"To the right," was his answer, and they continued on their quest without another word on the subject of Ponn's injury.

* * *

It seemed, from then on, Ponn had grown darker and more silent in her intentions. Despite this change, she was no less of an asset to Link than she was before, but oftentimes he'd find her gazing at her hand with an unmistakable look of sadness on her face; and the one time when Link grew weary of the dungeon and she implored him to rest, he found her playing her folk song on her instrument, but not singing the usual jovial lyrics, merely staring senselessly at the ground, her left hand barely clutching the instrument in her lap as the melody swept soullessly over the barren walls.

In addition to being quieter and profoundly less optimistic, she also became more volatile and dangerous. Every time more than one enemy appeared before Link, she'd spring straight into battle, more than once overcome by enemies larger than her, and once scaring a Floormaster halfway out of its wits; jumping on its back and stabbing it with a dagger seemed less of Ponn's style that Link would like to admit.

He felt slightly responsible for her out-of-sorts behaviour and conduct, having been the one who asked her about the slowly-growing blight in her palm. Despite this feeling, he did not offer her one iota of help, instead leaving her to her own devices and merely seeing her through the dungeon.

Finally, they had manoeuvred their way to a room with high walls of the normal thick, melancholy grey stone that they'd seen throughout the rest of the dungeon. This room, however, was strangely opposite any other room they'd seen in this dungeon, for in this room stretched a strange river of stale water. Little else was to be observed save the Triforce embedded into the floor.

Link instantly knew what to do. He moved to the river's edge, and pulled his ocarina from his pack, while Ponn stood behind him, idle. Recognizing what he needed to do, he instantly played Zelda's Lullaby. From the depths of the murky river rose a dark boat, adorned with shadowy figures. It seemed to surface with the moans of a thousand souls, and Ponn shivered. Nevertheless, she followed Link as he approached the boat and used his longshot. Meanwhile, Ponn just grinned and began to climb the ladder scaling up its side, not wanting another ride on his longshot-mobile.

They both ended up on the boat at the same time. Link looked beneath his feet and observed another Triforce. Once again playing Zelda's Lullaby, the ship lurched into motion, creaking loudly for its age. Link once again put his ocarina in his pack and looking at Ponn, who was sitting, motionless, on the ship. Link walked cautiously and sat next to her. Running a hand through his hair and sighing of relief at the fact that he didn't fall off the rickety ship, he looked up at Ponn to see her surprisingly stifling giggles. "What's so funny?" he asked, as the ship made a delicate turn.

"You're acting like the ship's going to throw you overboard," she replied, and let loose her withheld burst of laughter.

"Well, it's creaking like hell!" he replied, relieved she was laughing again. "How am I supposed to be comfortable on this godforsaken boat if it keeps moaning?"

Ponn continued to giggle, and Link couldn't supress a smile, but their party was rudely interrupted when two Stalfos appeared from underneath the ship's boards, smashing through the floor and shooting upward like a pair of skeletal missiles. Instantly, Ponn got to her feet and jumped away from the fray to assess the danger and prepare herself for battle. Meanwhile, Link pulled out his sword and instantly raised his shield, already taking one of the Stalfos on without much thought.

The other Stalfos examined its companion, and, seeing it was totally occupied, looked around until it spotted Ponn with a dagger. She noticed it barrelling at her and cursed, rolling out of the way last-minute as it smashed into the bird-shaped front of the hull. With her very limited arsenal, she couldn't defeat anything with a sword unless she was at long range or got rid of its weapon; and neither seemed possible at the moment due to its continuing barrage of attacks, like the one that was coming at her right now!

She rolled again as it ran at her, and she hoped it would be too clumsy and its momentum would throw it over. Not so; it turned completely in mid-run and skid to a stop just before the edge of the ship. Then, its salvo resumed as it bombarded her once again.

Link, meanwhile, was sparring expertly with his Stalfos. His shield raised, he waited until the Stalfos felt bold enough to jump and strike, trying to break his defence. Using its own unaccounted lack of defence against it was not a problem as he jumped to the side of its attack and smashed his sword into its skull. The skull rattled and it let loose a low-octave groan of pain, inhuman as ever, and it turned and sliced at him, his sword meeting a Hylian shield, impervious to fire and breaking. Link came down with his sword over his shield and the Stalfos raised his own. They were at a stalemate… Or so it thought.

Link took a page from Sheik's book and rolled daringly between its legs, getting up quickly and using his balance—or, rather, unbalance—to slice at the Stalfos' unprotected knee. It howled, a noise Link had never heard before, and its leg, quite literally, fell off. It fell over, its weight no longer supported, but it sliced out at Link's foot, hitting his shin in a diagonal cut that caused Link to yelp. Angry, Link drove his sword down through the skull, an action reminiscent of the ancient pirates of Termina, a place he'd heard all about from the stories told in Kakariko.

The Stalfos crunched its jaw multiple times as its arms clawed blindly every which-way. Finally, it dissolved in blue flame, its sword clanking out of its hand before disappearing as well. Link sighed, relieved, and took a step, feeling pain shoot into his shin. He was glad the cut wasn't too deep; he was just barely in that Stalfos' range, and he'd be okay. He looked up, trying to see Ponn, and instantly found her.

On the other side of the ship is where she stood, holding up the Stalfos' sword with her minute dagger, the Stalfos' head close to hers and its jaw clanking up and down, as if it were trying to bite off her face. _What the hell is wrong with these Stalfos'? _Link wondered to himself, drawing his sword and moving as fast as he could to assist her. He could see the sword slipping down her dagger slowly, almost as if the Stalfos was a sadist and enjoyed tormenting her.

Link quickly pulled out his shield and jumped, bashing into the Stalfos with his weight and sending it staggering sideways and over the side of the ship. The tell-tale splash they heard seconds later proved their victory. Link panted, tired from his run, and slumped to a kneel, touching his torn Kokiri boot tentatively before groaning and putting a hand to his face. "I can't believe I let that freaking thing cut my boot open."

His hand was suddenly removed from his face and he opened his eyes to see a bottle with a red, bubbling liquid being pushed into his hand. "Drink that," Ponn said, getting out a strip of leather from her pack and a very big needle, and Link blanched.

"Ponn," he asked hesitantly as she prepped the leather strip and needle, "you're not gonna sew me up with that, are you?"

Ponn looked at him, confused, before looking back at the needle and 'thread', and then she laughed. "Link, the potion's for your leg," she replied, "I'm just sewing up your boot." Link sighed of relief, and Ponn let loose another volley of laughter, and Link chuckled too before sipping the warm, red nectar and sighing as he felt his leg grow soothingly warm and then cool off. When he looked at it, only the slit of his boot was covered in a tad bit of blood.

Ponn performed her boot surgery fantastically, even when he was still wearing the boot. She sewed the slit up as if it came naturally to her, and then secured it. Link stood, walking around in it and feeling pleasure in the fact that he couldn't feel any difference from before he had his boot cut in the first place.

"Aww, excellent, Ponn!" he said, jumping a bit. "Where'd you learn how to sew so well?"

Ponn shrugged, standing and pulling her pack back to her shoulder. "In Kakariko, you pick up a lot of homely abilities."

He smiled, looking at her before looking back at his boot. "Good as new!" he yelled, and he jumped again.

Suddenly, the ship gave a sickening lurch, and Ponn fell over, Link barely keeping his balance. Navi, the ever-late guardian fairy, came out of his cap and shouted, "It's sinking! Link, Ponn, jump overboard! There's a ledge over there!"

Link looked at Ponn, watching her get up as the walls began to rise—no, the ship began to sink. Link ran to the edge of the ship, looking back for Ponn, who was rushing up next to him. They jumped together, landing messily on the stone floor as the ship gurgled ominously and sunk completely.

Link stared at where the ship once was, sighing of relief. He looked over at Ponn, seeing her panting a bit and staring at the exact same place he just was before looking at him. "Good thing we got off that boat, huh?" she asked rather whimsically, and Link grinned.

"Yeah," he replied, looking around and spotting a door. "Ah!" he said, getting to his feet and heading to the door. When he approached it, he turned to Ponn and grinned. "Coming or what?" he asked, and Ponn smiled, getting to her feet.

"Aye, I'm coming," she said, walking at a slow and steady pace. "Do all heroes have to be this impatient?"

"Only when it concerns you," came his reply, and Ponn let loose another genuine laugh; the last one Link would ever hear her make.

* * *

The next few rooms they got through with little difficulty; the room they entered was an invisible maze with indiscernible enemies, and Link would guide and protect Ponn, much to her amusement. They had slowly manoeuvred to the southmost door and had faced the challenge inside; a mere Floormaster, easily taken care of with Link's careful direction and Ponn's trusty bow. They had achieved a key in there, and then had gone back from whence they came.

They once again beguiled their way through the maze and came to the next door, and they'd spent a few moments chuckling to themselves as they aimed bombs into the tops of three spinning skulls. It was sport between the two of them at this point, and, Link mused, it was a good way to get away from the darkness of the cavern if they made it a game.

Having blown up the last one on the platform, Ponn sat on the edge of the ledge which they stood on and sighed, still smiling. Link sat next to her, perfectly content to stay there all his life if he needed to. He felt almost complete, sitting there with Ponn, breathless from having thrown so many bombs. He looked over to her, still panting, to see she was staring at her feet, which were hanging limply below her. She seemed lost in thought. Link nudged her a little, and she jerked in surprise, looking at him and giving a weak smile.

"You alright, Ponn?" he asked, genuine concern marring his graceful features. She shrugged and looked back down at her feet, a sheet of brown hair hiding her troubled green eyes from him.

"I guess you can say I'm physically fine," she mused, kicking her ankles together. She then swung them in a uniform fashion. "I just can't seem to grasp the fact that Sheik…" she trailed off at the mention of his name. "I just want to know if he's okay. I feel guilty playing games without him; like a duo isn't enough, you know?" She looked at him, her organic eyes quivering with some kind of strenuous thought, a pressing matter which she could no longer ignore. Link nodded his understanding, feeling a gaping hole in his stomach and knowing it wasn't because he was hungry…

_"It's a shame that you're so devoted to someone who will never love you back."_

Remembering what Dark Link had said, Link shook his head. Ponn looked at him, confusion reigning in her verdant eyes, before Link stood up, a sudden blaze behind his eyes, and Ponn was shocked as well as surprised, and suddenly, if not vaguely, reminded of the sweet yet burning flame of blue fire.

_Link is blue fire, _she thought to herself. _Strong, more than willing, more than capable, yet sweet as honey, as compassionate as a soul could be… _

Then, as if he had read her thoughts, he looked into her eyes and gave a sweet smile, so tender that it contradicted his determined eyes. He held out a hand to her and she took it, and he stood her up from the ledge. "We won't make him wait any longer," he said, and he hopped down from the ledge, rolling expertly in the now clear space and heading to the door. Ponn, grinning at his sudden inspiration, ran down the stairs and headed to the door as well.

In this new state of mind, they wound their way around the maze room for the last time and tackled the last room together. They opened the door and entered it, surprised to see it lock behind them the instant they stepped inside.

Suddenly, the walls gave a lurch and began to rush forward; old, moss-eaten walls of spikes began closing in on them. Ponn's eyes widened as she instantly headed to the wall, looking for an opening. "It's no use!" she cried after a few seconds of backing up and searching. "The spikes are too close together for me to kick a hole through it!"

Suddenly, Link had an epiphany. "Ponn, get over here!" he cried, holding a jewel with an orb of flame rotating inside it in his hand. Confused, Ponn ran next to him anyway. He pulled his hands, which cradled the jewel, back behind his waist, then used the force of gravity to slam the gem on the ground. With a small crack, it broke, and an orb of fire suddenly surrounded them. Link looked back at Ponn from his position and saw her hair whipping around her, rising above her shoulders carelessly. Her cheeks suddenly grew red from the intense heat, but her eyes were looking about in wonder before looking at Link.

It was with a start that she realised he was staring straight at her, and she smiled at him; but Link could tell it was a smile of admiration. He smiled too, and she reached out to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, the other one on the junction of her two collarbones, just under her throat.

Then, Link stood, and the orb of fire spread outward and dispelled, Ponn's hair giving a final flourish as the flames ate through the wooden walls closing in on them. The moans of ReDead infesting the room could be heard, but Link was still smiling at Ponn, and she at him, until she dropped her hand from his shoulder and pulled out her bow, easily aiming and sniping one of the ReDead in its un-dead cranium. Giving a slowing moan, it toppled over in a heap of hyperextended muscle. Link made quick work of the other one, slicing the back of its knees so it jerked forward before planting his sword rather tactlessly in its eye-socket. It made the same noise as the last and crumpled over, too humanoid for his taste. He unsheathed his sword from its body and ran to the colourful chest in the corner, opening it and giving a grand smile.

"What is it?" Ponn asked, getting up from investigating a ReDead corpse; they usually carried what they were buried with around with them, as if they still valued it. Link looked up at her and smiled, holding out a golden key that looked like a triangle at the end, with horns and a devilish ruby embedded in either side of it.

"The key to the final door!" she said triumphantly. She whipped her eyes to the door before starting off at a sprint, her pack jostling about on her back as she shouted, "Hang on, Sheik, we're coming!" Link quickly pocketed the key, sharing in her excitement as he, too, ran to the doorway and after her.

They quickly threaded their way through the maze again, too excited to take too much time with the Floormasters in the room. Their adrenaline was pumping excessively, but maybe it was fuelled by their euphoria? Either way, Link quickly solved the next riddle, instructing Ponn to shoot an arrow at the bomb flowers at the base of a statue and watching it fall, very slowly yet noisily, turning into their makeshift bridge. Grinning, Link jumped on it first, helping Ponn up, for she couldn't release her bow to save her life, too happy to be nearly out of here to let her guard down.

Using his key, Link gained them access to the next room and they entered it; only to find there was no floor. Link pulled out his lens and looked through it, nodding to himself before giving the lens to Ponn. She looked through it as Link ran his way across a few invisible platforms, making good use of his hover boots. Ponn, using the lens, had an easier time jumping around. Getting to the door, Link used the golden key they'd found earlier, sliding it in the lock. He looked back at Ponn with a grin, and she returned it, before he opened the door and they headed cautiously inside.

The first thing Ponn noticed was the acrid tang of acid. She could hear it bubbling somewhere in the distance. In this room, the shadows were an eerie purple, and the air was a sickening green. Link approached a hole in the floor gingerly and looked down it.

Ponn hesitated to speak in this room. All ambience of moaning spirits was gone; all white noise was diminished. It made her feel insecure, as if something was in the wrong. And the hairs standing up on the back of her neck weren't a good sign, either. "What do you see?" she asked in a whisper, and Link looked back at her.

"Not much," he said, and he looked back down.

"Just in case, I ought to go first, don't you think, Link—?"

"You're not going down there, Ponn," he replied, and Ponn glared at him as he straightened his back and looked at her. His gaze was almost apologetic. Ponn's was livid.

"Pardon me?" she said venomously, and he sighed.

"I don't want you going down there," he replied, and she growled. She took a menacing step forward, her eyes desperate.

"But Link–"

"Not until Bongo Bongo's dead. Understand?" His gaze was concerned, and that was what stopped Ponn from jumping on him and scratching his eyes out. She sighed resignedly and sat down, nodding to him. With that out of the way, he turned and prepped himself to jump, testing his weight on either foot. Just as he was about to make the leap of faith—

"Bring Sheik back, Link," Ponn said, and Link looked at her. Her gaze was softened mightily, her smile sad. "For me."

Link looked at her before smiling and nodding. And, with a final wave, he jumped down the hole, leaving Ponn to feel her goose bumps rise and her hair stand entirely on end.

Bongo Bongo had felt Link's presence and had awoken. The battle had begun.

* * *

_I gotta say, this chapter is boring as ass, and I'm so glad that this shit is all over, y'know? I just couldn't stand typing that, but I did it for the sake of adapting some kind of character development for Ponn and Link when they have to work together. In addition, I wanted you guys to see a side of Ponn only seen once; her fighter side. I just want you guys to know all the faces of Ponn, good and bad, Mary Sue and flat. See, I created this boring chapter just for you! REJOICE. XD_


	8. Chapter 8

**_The Inane Bystander – Chapter 8_**

_"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing._

**_Disclaimer:_**_ I do not own Legend of Zelda or any of its characters. I am not using them for financial gain. Forgive me if I offend the nature of any of the characters._

**_Warning: _**_There's Shounen Ai, or Slash for those fans that are not anime-oriented, I fiddled a bit with the timeline in minour places, and there's one OC…_

**_A Word: _**_I assure you, my friends, my solemnity has good reason._

_

* * *

_

**_((Chapter 8: To Be Saved and To Be Lost))_**

Link had hardly realised that, when he had landed, he had bounced on tautly-pulled animal skins. That is, until he bounced a second time, and a decent third, before landing entirely. He looked about, feeling strangely stranded. He took a step and heard a soft pound come from under his feet. Looking down, he chuckled. It was funny, how much this island sounded like a drum—

Two giant hands beat a steady rhythm on it, and Link looked at them, seeing only those giant hands resembling an ape's, with thick knuckles and calloused palms. But when he slid the Lens of Truth over his eye, he saw, in all actuality, what it really was that was beating the drum.

It was a severed torso lingering in mid-air, with two muscular arms that were outstretched and unwavering in the air. The hands moved on their own, severed from the arms, and, on the top of the burly neck that stretched, lizard-like, from the shoulders, was an eye, flaps of skin surrounding it, like an odd flower.

**_"So,"_** it mused, beating on the drum and speculating him in an almost aristocratic manner. **_"This is the Hero of Time, whose friend I've stolen and whose name I should fear." _**The eye flicked pensively before, reminiscent to the ancient spider Gohma, it did a 360 and looked at him once again. **_"Why, you're naught but a quaint little insect; how charming that the people of Hyrule place their hopes on a boy of only—what, seventeen, is it? My, you _are _quite pretty, aren't you?" _**Link growled, reminded vaguely of Dark Link's sudden bipolar-esque attraction to him in the water temple. He shuddered. Bongo Bongo remained impassive to his discomfort.

"Where's Sheik?" Link inquired, trying to keep his voice firm, but there was a drop at the end that he cursed wildly in his mind. The monster seemed amused at his sudden demand, for the eye, though lidless, seemed to squint. A laugh was heard.

**_"How cute!" _**it said, and Link felt red rise in his cheeks. **_"So foreign am I to the acts which love can persuade us to perform–" _**Link's blush grew and he felt frantic, wondering if Sheik was about… And what was all this love crap with monsters in temples, anyway? **_"—that I seem to have been surprised by your motive for fighting me." _**A pensive pause ensued, in which no noise was made. **_"Alright, then,"_** Bongo Bongo said, his voice resolute.****The hands once again began a steady drumbeat, and Link pulled out his sword, bouncing unsteadily. **_"Demonstrate the power of light and love over shadow and hatred, Hero, and you shall win your Sheikah back!" _**

Link gave a grin. Now **this **was more like it.

He watched the palms carefully, measuring the drumbeat and its tempo and watching as the hands switched, noticing how and when they did so. Then, suddenly, an open palm stopped its beating to rush at Link in a sideswipe fashion; Link pulled his shield close and backflipped out of the way, holding his sword out as he did so. The hands resumed beating as he landed, pushing his weight forward and throwing him off balance. It was apparent that his strike had missed.

Bongo Bongo seemed to be getting more and more into the fight, for he began to hum to accommodate his drum beating. He rotated around the edge of the drum, beating it incessantly with his hands. Link drew his bow and shot at one of the hands and it suddenly stopped in mid-air, shaking rapidly in place as Bongo Bongo let out a strange noise of discomfort. The arrow, like a flimsy splinter, wiggled about in the air, its fletching causing it to wave, but the tip did not budge. Link quickly prepped another arrow and fired at the other one, which did the same. Then, the hands bunched into fists, and Bongo Bongo lowered himself to the drum, sliding across it with extreme force. It was at that time that Link thrust his sword directly into the red eye charging at him.

Bongo Bongo instantly stopped and slurred, the flap above its eye drooping over it as it lay on the ground for a minute, trying to regain its consciousness. Link took that time to jab and slice relentlessly at its pupil until it let loose a growl—or, rather, what Link presumed to be a growl—and resumed its levitation in the air.

Link tried to prep another arrow and fire, but at that time another open palm rushed at him, and he was clasped in it more quickly than he could dodge. He was wriggled back and forth, shaken like a Cuckoo in the hands of a child tormentor before he was tossed carelessly to the drum. He bounced up and down, sliding precariously close to the edge and groaning as his body recovered from the immense pressure the fist had pushed on him. He tried to scramble to his feet, but it was nearly impossible with the drumbeat that tapped a hole in his head…

Bongo Bongo resumed his hum in a satisfactory manner, and Link got up, prepping his bow more quickly this time and shooting, watching Bongo Bongo's hand flail around again as it tried to shake out the splinter. He aimed for the other hand, which had risen and was moving toward him, and it paused to thrash about as well. Once again, Bongo Bongo assumed his stance and rushed at the Hero; and, again, he slashed at the beast's big, red orb of an eye.

It went on like this for some time; Link's attacks on the hands resulting in the oncoming rush, and Link slashing at the eye staring dauntingly at him. He occasionally got caught, but other times he would escape. He thought the fight would never end; that he'd be there forever, rotting like the ReDead above his head, thinking of Sheik eternally, but those thoughts dissipated once he began to hear the monster's incessant humming strain, as if it were too hurt to keep up the effort to taunt him. Link felt renewed energy rush to him at the thought of his actually being a strain on Bongo Bongo, and he pulled out his bow once more, reaching back in his quiver for his arrows—

And paused, blanching. He was entirely out of arrows.

Bongo Bongo used his status of shock against him, switching to the offensive and slamming his hands together, Link caught between them like a helpless fly. He quickly struggled his way to the top, between the knuckles of one of his hands, and began to breathe air that didn't smell like acid or dust. He looked at the monster, his bow now abandoned on the ground, and he saw the eye, once again, squint, if it didn't lack the necessary eyelids to do so.

**_"My, my,"_** Bongo Bongo mused, turning Link over until he was upside-down, obviously having no qualms with his hands being the wrong way**_. "What a cute little bug I have here, caught and struggling between my hands. I think I might just play with it before I squish it."_**

Then, as he felt the hands clench and he knew he was going to be tossed about by a rag doll, one of the hands fell away, and Bongo Bongo let loose an unearthly groan. Suddenly, Link was falling, landing safely on the drum and being bounced up. Once he landed safely, he looked over, reaching for his bow; and getting a foot instead. Looking up, he saw Ponn aiming with a bow, the arrows' fletching consisting of blue and yellow feathers.

Ponn's homemade bows. Link nearly died of hysteria and gratitude.

**_"It's you!"_** cried the shadowy beast as Ponn shot its other hand. It didn't prepare to transgress again, instead glaring at Ponn. The acid below them seemed to flux in response to his sudden mood change. **_"So, it turns out your clan can still sniff out the coming of evil times, despite years of malpractice,"_** he remarked rather bitterly, and it was the first time Link had heard him say anything without a jovial or amused air. Ponn glared at him determinedly, not to be swayed by its sudden acrimonious conversation.

His hands stopped shaking and settled into fists, but again, he did not try to run them over. He merely glared at Ponn. **_"I can see you're no fool,"_** he said rancorously, and Link looked at Ponn to gauge her reaction; but she had none, her face still determined yet impassive. **_"You know the power that you have over me. You flaunt it beautifully in those eyes of yours. Those were your grandmother's; the first of your clan not to be buried here in Kakariko." _**Link felt a sudden confusion render him speechless as efficiently as a punch in the mouth, and he looked between Ponn and the demon, back and forth, neither getting ready to explain anything that had just transpired between them.

Instead, Ponn raised her bow and her arrow and merely stated, "I know," before shooting the thing right in its eye. It growled vehemently and all of its flaps closed down over it. It blindly opened a fist and swatted at them, catching Ponn in the side and throwing her across the arena. She landed safely on the drum, but she groaned as she tried to flip over to avoid the hands now beating brutally on the drum.

Link had gotten to his feet and immediately swept back into battle mode when faced with the unforgiving fray of attacks. He ran to Ponn, helping her up and yanking her to him as a hand smacked the drum. Ponn sighed, looking slightly dizzy as she leaned into Link, but he was too focused on manoeuvring them around the rapidly descending palms to notice. He pulled them to a spot and suddenly, Ponn prepared the bow and arrows and fired two arrows at once. They found purchase in the hand, hitting two of the knuckles dead-on.

Bongo Bongo growled, waving his hand as the other moved to squish them, but Link held up his sword and skewered the massive palm on the blade. The beast yowled, removing his hand and shaking it before preparing his barrage quickly and efficiently. Ponn was swept behind Link as he slashed downward through the eye, and then he began to relentlessly hit it, Bongo Bongo jerking about as he was wounded repeatedly in rapid succession.

And then he suddenly resuscitated himself and smacked Link hard enough to fling his sword and embed it into the other side of the drum. Ponn paled and moved to run, but Bongo Bongo pinched her leg between his forefinger and thumb and suspended her upside-down in the air. It was too focused on Link moving to get his sword to see her trying to bend her body excruciatingly tightly to get to her dagger in her boot.

Link scrambled toward his sword, stopping short every time the large hand slammed in front of him, and rolling when it tried to slam on top of him. His legs shook and nearly buckled as he sprinted with all his might. He jumped toward his sword, grabbing the hilt just as Ponn grabbed her small blade. The hand got Link's own ankle, but he turned and unsheathed the sword from the drum before turning and implanting it into the hand of the monster as Ponn did the same with her dirk.

They were dropped simultaneously, the hands drawing away quickly to recuperate, and Ponn ran as fast as she possibly could to Link, dropping to her knees next to him and helping him sit up. He seemed to have landed on his ankle; he sprained it, and needed a moment to sit. Ponn looked up as the giant hand once again loomed over them; but it wasn't just one, it was the two hands pushed together, so escape was a dying option. To Link's surprise, Ponn stood, looking at her left hand. It was oozing again because of this marvellous exertion. Then, she looked back at Link and gave him a smile. "I can hold him off if you promise to finish him, partner," she said, and he, dumbfounded, nodded, wondering how she would do so with just her bows and arrows. But her eyes softened and lifted him from his senseless reverie. She smiled sadly. "Think of Sheik. It's what's keeping me going through this whole fight. I ache to hell, but it's you and Sheik that push me forward."

And then, the hands dropped.

Link winced as he saw the speed at which they came down, closing his eyes and expecting pain. But he heard nothing but the sudden sharp whistle of air moving, and he opened his eyes, alarmed at what he saw.

Ponn had her arms extended above her head, her left one reflecting light due to its injury, and at her hands was a yellow-white barrier made of nothing but essence; it shifted in warming waves over Link, who was too cold due to the dungeon's damp and dank atmosphere. He watched, gaping, as it stretched over her and behind her, and she bent her back to accommodate it, stretching her hands against Bongo Bongo's. His hands were actually dispelled by this barrier; they bounced off of it and were pressing down on it, but Ponn was relentless in her defence.

This obstruction to darkness had a profoundly positive effect on Link; he felt he could suddenly stand again, and he felt as though he was standing in a warm summer breeze. He stood, but was suddenly broken from his musing by the flashing of the impediment, and he looked at it, seeing Ponn acting as though she was trying to push a boulder; her whole weight was into it, her eyes scrunched closed and tears streaking down her face, and Link suddenly realised the leviathan was pushing as hard as it could against her.

Link drew his sword, seeing her strain, and cautiously touched the barrier; it sent a hot wave through him, like blue fire, and he felt encouraged. Bracing himself, he ran to the barrier and sliced sideways with his swords.

The strain lifted from Ponn's face as she wavered on her feet, sweating, but still holding up her defence as the palms pulled away, split open straight across. Ponn then moved her hands to a different position, and Link watched as the magic enveloped the room, spreading outward before zeroing in on Bongo Bongo's hands and surrounding them, like a coating of light. He noticed the hands twitched and moved slowly, and Ponn gave him a nod to continue. He nodded back, running back into the fray.

He could now easily dodge the hands, as they were considerably slowed, and so it was no hassle in weakening them until they dropped uselessly to the ground, too tired and impeded to shake themselves back into action. Bongo Bongo would sink and Link would aggravate his eye again, much to the behemoth's displeasure. He only had to do this once before he sliced at one of the hands and noticed it fell, with a thud, to the floor. The sunrise-coloured magic rose off of the dead appendage before sliding across the floor. He watched it as it spread like a wave, winding before it got to Ponn. He looked at her, surprised to see her trembling where she stood, eyes unmistakably droopy and cheeks flushed of all colour. It seemed to give her power, though, for she reinforced the binds on the other hand, and Link tore his eyes away from her to run to the hand and ease her pain. With a stunning amount of force, he got to the hand as it was trying to raise itself without much success, and, with a sharp cry, he sliced three tendons in the top of the hand with one clean, vicious cut.

Bongo Bongo cried out and collapsed, its hands now totally useless. Link looked back at Ponn, seeing the light rush back to her, and she suddenly glowed, rising off the ground a little. Using the last of her strength, she outstretched her arms to the sky and hung her head. Bongo Bongo gave a sudden shriek of pain, and Link drew his weapon back, preparing a jab. The light was blinding in the room as he gazed one last time into Bongo Bongo's depraved eye.

The light suddenly disappeared as Link thrust his sword into Bongo Bongo's eye. The monster jerked up, waving its hands frustratedly as its arms stayed at its side, rising in the air like a floating mass of heat before lowering again, all the while howling a horrid noise that echoed uselessly off the walls, like bits of wayward shrapnel. It finally settled gently on the ground, its one eye rolling around in its socket before looking at Link, while the rest of its body quivered uselessly. **_"I was foolish to have stolen from the Hero of Time,"_** it remarked in a surprisingly steady voice for one who was on the cusp of death's doors. **_"But at least I got my revenge on the Sheikah…"_** Link's eyes widened and he almost asked what the shadowy monster meant, when it began to dissipate into the ground, turning into the hissing wave of dark energy that it was before. He felt a sudden elation as the normal hum of the portal to the Sacred Realm cleansed the dungeon of any darkness. Link smiled, feeling quite accomplished before he turned around and froze.

There, lying on the ground, was Ponn, her hair dripping over her face. Link paled and ran to her, skidding on his knees to slide into her. He turned her over and saw her face was pale, black veins running through her cheeks. Her lips were blue, her eyes shut but their lids blackly veiny, and her skin cold to the touch. He fumbled on her neck for a pulse, breathing heavily. Try as he might, her cold skin was void of any signs of life. He looked around, trying to remember anything Ponn taught him on finding vital signs, and he suddenly remembered the wrist, instinctively reaching to his right and pulling up her left wrist.

He yelped for the first time in his life as he gazed at her arm. The darkness that had been once eating away only at her elbow and below had stretched up her shoulder and across her chest in so short a time that it seemed impossible to him that this was the same Ponn he'd known before he entered the temple's depths. The injury that was once only oozing out of her palm was now a deep split all the way up her arm to her shoulder, so strongly committed that it split the bandages in two, a tear down the middle. It was oozing so much pus that that was what had caused his alarm. Despite her arm basically tearing open and the rest of her body looking pale with black veins rushing to the surface, her expression was one of peace.

_How had she died so quickly?_ he wondered to himself as he looked her over, feeling panic rise in him like bubbling lava. He quickly thought of many scenarios to himself, his eyes still frantically flicking over her cold body. Using her power must've drained her of all her energy; had the darkness taken her then? Or had she been struggling to withhold its progress for all that time, and had stopped trying in order to summon all her energy? Or maybe this final bout of giving up her life had been what it was waiting for; and it took her while she was weak, remorselessly swallowing her life…?

He felt the panic finally reach his brain as he held her good hand, pulling her body to him with his other hand to cradle her. And he began to cry, his first tears since he last talked to Ponn, and he pulled her closer to him, stroking her hair. Oh, what was he going to tell Sheik about what happened to her? What was he going to say to him when the time came to confess that he'd had his life spared in exchange for another?

What was he to do?

_Din, Nayru, Farore, please… Tell me… What am I to do?_

"Hero."

Link turned his head, surprised to meet the Sheikah symbol, but not the Sheikah he was hoping for. In the midst of the glowing pillar of light stood a tall, white-haired woman he'd seen seven years ago. He kept Ponn to him but gazed at her without shame; as if what he was doing was normal. The Sheikah didn't seem to care that he was caressing a corpse. She stretched out her hand to him. "Come with me, Hero. We must leave her here."

To that, Link protested. "What?" he shouted in a sob-choked voice. "Leave her here with all these spirits staring at her? No, I must, I have to… I have to bring her with me. Master Sheikah…" He looked down at her peaceful face, noticing the black veins in her ears.

To his surprise, Impa shook her head, an action he barely caught out of the corner of his eye. "We must leave her here to pacify the spirits. This is as good a grave as she would get in Kakariko." Link's eyebrows furrowed and he turned to her, gritting his teeth, his sapphire eyes flashing with anger, shining with tears. Link didn't miss the unmistakable look of surprise on Impa's face, however quickly it came and went.

"How dare you!" he cried, standing up and taking a stance, as if he were guarding Ponn's body with his life. "How dare you say she could not have been better off with her own people! Using her as bait to pacify the spirits, using her as a tool to weaken Bongo Bongo! I know what you did, you insolent tormentor! I know what you did to Ponn, how you morphed her into the perfect tool for Sheik to use, the perfect sacrifice for this temple! You told her she was born for nothing else, that **that** was her purpose, dying before my eyes! I know it was you! And I know why you think it's alright; because you watch thousands of people die **every day**, but you don't care about them, you don't care about anybody because that's just your way; you let Ponn die because **that's the way of the Sheikah**!"

Then, his volatile eyes settled into something beyond teary anger, and this time Impa's look of surprise didn't go away, and she lowered her hand, a Sheikah finally found shocked beyond comparison. He set his face into a look of pure rage before shouting—no, roaring, in a dark, almost inhuman way, "I do not have to conform to these rules; I am not heartless. I am not steeled. I am not homeless, I am not an assassin, I am not a thief, I am not alone. I am not a Sheikah!" He paused, snarling, before finishing with a flourish of his sword and the simple phrase, "I actually give a damn!"

Impa's look of surprise slowly faded while he stood there, panting, suddenly feeling the blood rush from his head. He looked down at his feet, trying to steady the erratic beat of his heart when Impa spoke. "I never understood why when she told me she loved you," she said calmly, and it was Link's turn to be shocked. He looked up at her, eyes wide, as she continued. "I have never, myself, experienced such an emotion, but I knew what it could be made from, what created the feeling, and the bond. To me, you weren't Ponn's 'type', shall we say, and so I was quite surprised when she said she valued you in the highest. I thought for certain she had a bond of that sort with Darron of Kakariko, but it appears I was wrong. I didn't understand any of it. I didn't drop it, either. I had a strange fascination with knowing more about you and seeing what Ponn valued in you. It appears I have now found it." She put a hand to her chin and tilted her head thoughtfully, still gazing at Link. "You have this compassion that Ponn always seemed to gravitate towards. You're strong, in both will and body, and you have no fear except fear itself." She gave a smile, but it was solemn, as her smiles normally were. "You are the embodiment of courage, Link. But you're also incredibly stubborn. We must leave her here, do you understand? There is no way you can take her. Arrange her to lay in any way you must, but you cannot do anything more for her."

Link looked down at Ponn's body, sprawled tragically on the ground, before nodding. He felt himself shake as he kneeled next to her once again, taking her hands as his breathing quivered. He arranged her to be laying the same way she slept; her ear to the ground, her eyes peacefully closed, her palm resting in front of her face, as if she were listening to the stories of the earth. Then, he stood, pulled out his ocarina, and began to play the Serenade of Water, which he found hard to believe that he taught it to her only this morning.

The music faded. Its echo swept through the walls, more soothing now than ever before. He dropped his hand to his side, immensely tired.

He looked at her. She looked asleep; dreamlike. He noticed her pack and kneeled next to it, looking through it one last time. Her usual herbs were in a few pouches, some provisions, and then he came across her instrument, the pick-ring looped through a few of the strings. He pulled both of those out and transferred them to his own pack before turning to Impa. Sighing, he looked back only once as he approached the column of blue light and was taken to the Sacred Realm, where nothing had died until a heart of evil had taken its beacon and left it to rot.

_

* * *

_

Awakening in the Sacred Realm just moments after heading to it was always awkward for Link, at best. He'd go into this half-dream state as soon as he stepped into the column of light and wake up standing up with the sage—usually a good, personal friend, like Darunia and Saria—staring expectantly at him and smiling. He never liked the sensation of not being totally there, even in front of those he trusted most.

But on this particular trip to the Sacred Realm, Link felt the awkward atmosphere was not as stifling as the stagnant cloud of death that lingered over both of them. He smelled like attic and spoiled earth, mosses and old soil mingling with the smell of wet coffins and rotting wood. It was a solemn reminder of what effort had been made to bring him to this place. Even in this land of dreams, Ponn would remain a strong reality to him.

Impa noticed the look on his face, her arms crossed across her chest, her usual stance. "Link," she said, and he looked at her. "You mustn't dwell. It is not…" She saw the flicker of something in his eyes again, and it stopped her from speaking any further. She had to remember he was not one of the Sheikah; he seemed to find value in showing his feelings and growing attached to people. Wordlessly, she summoned her powers and collected them, a purple medallion forming in her hand. She threw it to Link, who silently caught it in one hand, looking at it momentarily before placing it with the others. Then, she kneeled in a bow-like gesture.

"I have collected my power and added it to yours," she said quietly. "If you can liberate the final temple then we shall be forever grateful."

"I will be forever grateful when I find out what happened to Ponn before I came around," Link replied, and Impa looked up at him. "Do you know what did that to her hand?"

She stood, her eyes locked with his, her auburn pupils just like Sheik's. "On a night when Sheik was away, teaching you a melody," she began, "Ponn was on the campsite. A phantom of Ganondorf's power, a sentry, came along and noted her position. A chase ensued, in which Ponn leapt from her horse and stabbed him in the back. She had no idea the sentry was cursed; that anyone who so much as touched it would be cursed with a spell that would rot them from the inside out. She was cursed for defending Sheik's position, and keeping your whereabouts unknown."

Link looked at his feet and nodded. "Right…" he murmured, more to himself than to Impa, and she looked at him. He still had a question behind his eyes; that she could see, seeing as he kept furrowing his messy blonde brows and running a hand through his fraying bangs, as if combing them would result in the answer being discovered. Finally, he looked at her, and she stood a little taller, looking as though she could answer any of his questions.

"When…" he began, suddenly pausing. But then he looked at her again, and continued. "When we were facing the demon of the temple, Ponn did something I'd never suspected she could…" He furrowed his eyebrows again. "Where did she learn that?"

Impa started off her explanation by shaking her head. "It's not something you just learn, Hero," she replied. "It's a family-inherited trait, passed down through her family for many a generation. It began many centuries ago. Ponn's ancestors were a band of evil-loathing gypsies called Interium, which had the ability to sense evil in all its forms and drive it away. They came to Kakariko as it was first being created by the Sheikah and banished the evil spirits that had begun tormenting the town. They were coveted after that and transformed from a band of gypsies to an important part of the town." Impa looked down. "I, being the Sage of Shadow, thought I might be able to get rid of the problem entirely and earn the eldest of the Interium their freedom. I sealed Bongo Bongo in the well and allowed the eldest to take her family and migrate elsewhere; and so she did, taking her son and daughter and moving across the sea to the Great Bay of Termina. She nestled in the fields and grew old, dying and leaving her house to her children, and their legacy was forgotten. At least, until the daughter dug up her mother's old tome of incantations and rediscovered her lost heritage. The daughter, at that time, had given birth to a child who was still impeccably young, but who loved her father, who was going away on a job to work for the Royal Family of Hyrule. The daughter chose to be with her father, and they moved here together. From there, his daughter was raised and taught the tools of his trade, and became a successful horsemaster. But I felt the stirrings of evil returning, and when Ganondorf overthrew the Good King's rule, I knew I had to act. I wrote to the mother in Termina and pleaded that she send the tome of incantations to me. Then, I entrusted it to her daughter, who read it and took back her family's old title."

Link nodded slowly, seemingly taking all of it in. "So Ponn's grandmother was the one who you saved from being a defender," he said, and Impa nodded.

"Ponn's powers were weak due to her mother not practicing them; it was hereditary, the level of their power. Ponn's was just enough to bring both of you to the end of the fight, and had she not been previously cursed, she may have survived."

Silence reigned. Impa could still sense turmoil behind the boy's eyes, but there was nothing she could do for him. So, once again, she knelt, her own gesture of a bow, and he merely acknowledged it with a slight nod. He began to fade away, returning to the front of the Temple; she could tell he was willing himself to. After a few moments of his silent fading, neither saying a word, something moved in his mind and he looked at her, eyes frantic.

"Wait," he said suddenly, but she silenced him with a palm in the air and answered the question that was on his mind.

"Honesty," she replied. "Sheikah prefer complete and total honesty."

With that, Link faded away.

_

* * *

_

_Oh, my God, it hurt so badly to kill Ponn. This is the first time I can say without regrets that I actually liked one of my characters, even though, from the get-go, she was destined to die. I usually don't feel any remorse in killing my own OCs, considering they're always made with the thought of someone dying, but I actually used Ponn as a conversation starter between the two blondes, and now… What the hell, man… I'm just kinda upset that I can't write her anymore, I guess. She was enjoyable. Anyway, reviews are much appreciated. Thanks for reading._

_Time passes… People move… Like a river's flow, it never ends…_


	9. Chapter 9

**The Inane Bystander – Chapter 9**

"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing.

**Disclaimer:** Zelda isn't mine, neither is Sheik or Link or anyone else I mention in this story anymore.

**Warning: **There's Shounen Ai! AI LIKE SHOUNEN AI! XD And you can call it Slashy-kins too, you know, because that's cool too… Then the timeline has been tinkered by Handy Manny! XD Just kidding. Don't own that either, it was a joke. And it was funny… because it's true.

**Rahh: **After last chapter's gravity, I really don't have much to say, except… Thanks, all of you. Ponn's journey with you was a great one for her. You gave her one hell of a farewell. J

**Fan-freakin'-tastic: **Well, I'm in pain, drinking Orangeade and eating some delicious strawberries. And I'm thinking… "What do I want to write about today?" Well, considering I always get writer's block after exercising, I realised I might not write much today. And then I suddenly jotted down 1,000 words. And I was kind of like '_oh… wow. Heheh…_' and sweatdropping. So… Here's my sweatdrop-causing chapter! :D

* * *

**((Chapter 9: The Flawed Note/A New Song))**

Link felt steady ground beneath his feet. A fresh wind kissed his face as he returned to earth, the grass swaying and the smell of wet grass after a rain invaded his nose, an immaculate development from the old, odd smell of rotting wood and dust. Link let his eyes fall closed as he stood there, releasing a miniscule sigh before he slumped to the ground, slowly, gently, but still enough to jar him on impact.

The stone on which he stood was not rough, like all the bricks he had come in contact with in the ancient tomb he had grown so accustomed to. It seemed almost unsullied, and he wondered if, like the one in the forest, it had always been there, or if it were new. Either way, he let his mind wander to strange places as he laid there, the wind jostling his hair about gently and splashing him with leftover water droplets from the rain that had just recently stopped.

Beyond the whistle of the wind and the hiss of trees shaking in the breeze was the familiar sound of a windmill turning. People's footsteps also seemed to come to his ears, and the general chatter of people rose to greet him on the squall that seemed to wish him nothing but endless comfort. But he couldn't feel it, he couldn't find it, no matter how hard he tried, and he knew why. It was because he suddenly couldn't hear a folk song in the back of his mind; he couldn't smell pig roasting over a fire; he couldn't see emerald eyes hidden behind a fletching of yellow and blue feathers pulled tautly on a bowstring; he couldn't feel a hand on his shoulder as he stood in a torrent of light and fire in a place black and cold…

Ponphelle of Kakariko was dead. It had left him lifeless, his mind no longer grounded, his thoughts moving through the endless universe that was his psyche, and he seemed to unearth something that seemed important to him now, examining it with little curiosity and gusto.

_"How can you covet one who is so likely to destroy you? He's going to rob you of everything… He already took two of them, didn't he?"_

Link groaned and rolled over, his back facing the wind as he pulled himself close, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his pack on his back and his empty quiver's whistling with the wind, turning its consoling melody into a disheartening mantra that tromped through the air uncomfortably. It didn't seem to bother him.

It said what words couldn't.

His cheeks warmed up at the mutiny his mind had committed when it had pulled up the words of Dark Link to explain the situation. How could he have possibly known that Ponn was to be taken from him, along with Ruto? He didn't want to know of its guile anymore; he didn't want to think of bad things anymore. He wanted to lie on the stone tablet supporting his sorry weight forever, never opening his eyes, and never moving forward.

Then, he heard something that was not the wind's tireless hymn. He opened his eyes and looked up, sapphire orbs staring directly at the retreating back of a figure that ran back to the village hastily, as if having spotted something, or maybe was a sentry, checking the graveyard for any sign of Link and Ponn's return.

Link lowered his head again and shut his eyes, furrowing his brows at the uncomfortable coolness of the stone beneath him, and suddenly its smoothness wasn't enough to make up for how cold it was.

He slowly hoisted himself to all fours; moving one of his hands to unstrap his quiver and let it fall, empty, to the ground, no longer whistling as it thudded against the stone, he used his other hand, replacing his first, to unsling the pack from his back, and that, too, fell to the ground and landed with a soft thud, for he hadn't set it down carelessly, like he had his quiver; something special was in there.

Then, he sat on his haunches carefully, unstrapping his gloves and tossing them to the side, pulling his sleeves down to his wrists again where the gloves had pushed them up. Then, he returned to his hands and knees, and, crawling away from his stuff, kept his eyes closed until he felt grass under all of his appendages. Then, with a whimpering sigh, he collapsed again, caressing the grass with his face, feeling it tickle his nostril, caress his fingers gently, and palpitate in the wind.

"He's jus' up here, sir; I saw 'im, I did!"

Link ignored the slur of the usual Kakariko folk, too focused on being in an unreal world to recognise the voice as someone he might've known. The approaching footsteps became too close to ignore, but he did nothing to stop the noise from impeding his thoughts, for they weren't all correct at the moment, and he wondered vaguely if they'd ever be again.

"He's up there, on that there ledge, 'e is; I saw 'im I did! Jus' up there, Masser Sheikah!"

He ignored the voice again, ignored the footsteps going back slowly, ignored the footsteps coming toward him rapidly, and ignored the thud of a body on a wooden fence, too busy, too mindless, too helpless to move to try to defend himself if need be, or too pitiful to accept help from someone he knew and trusted.

The fence gave a final squeak as the weight on it was hoisted over carefully and landed in the grass next to the stone tablet. Silence reigned as Link felt eyes on him, a feeling that he could **not**, to the best of his abilities, ignore, before he heard footsteps and someone kneeled next to him slowly. A beat passed before a hand moved to his shoulder and shook him lightly. "Link…?" the voice said, laced with uncertainty, and Link felt his unconscious train of thought come to a rather peaceful stop. "Link, are you…?" The question came to an ambiguous stop, as if the person asking it struggled immensely with the answers that could be foreseen. But Link was not one to lead others on, and so he got up, groaning slightly in the process at the stiffness of his body. He could hear a relieved sigh from the person with their hand on his shoulder before he sat down in a sitting position and opened his eyes.

It was Sheik. Sheik was sitting in front of him, his hands resting on his knees, his legs folded underneath his body. The one exposed eye he had was gleaming with barely-restrained excitement and happiness. "You're all right," he said quietly to himself, and Link nodded, watching as Sheik's happy expression disappeared. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, but Link just shook his head.

"Did you get back alright?" he said, changing the subject. It was cowardly of him to avoid the conversation that would eventually have to take place. Sheik nodded anyway, allowing the transition to occur.

"I got back just fine," he replied. "Three days ago, to be exact. Since then, I've been putting myself to work in Kakariko, helping them rebuild it from the fires. I had a sentry posted here in case you came back. They were supposed to be in Dampé the Gravekeeper's old hut, but apparently the people of Kakariko are just as suspicious as ever. They refuse to sleep or even step foot in there. Something about Dampé's 'spirit a-lurkin'." He chose this point to pause and smile, but he could still sense the distress in Link's behaviour; and the way he was totally restrained didn't help matters much either. "Link," he said, and then he looked around. Confusion flicked in his one exposed eye and Link felt his heart sink as he grew apprehensive of the upcoming question. Finally, it was out. "Where's Ponn?"'

Link lowered his head and let loose a frustrated sigh, causing Sheik to turn his undivided attention to the matter now. He quickly put two and two together, though; seeing him upset about something and then having him sigh in response to a question must mean the two were related. Link got up to his feet and took hesitant, shaking steps to his pack, falling to his knees next to it and opening it, pulling out his precious item with a sad look in his eye before closing his pack and handing the item to Sheik.

Sheik's eyes widened as Ponn's treasured instrument came to rest in his hands, the pick-ring looped around a few of the strings. "Ponn…" Link began, and Sheik diverted his gaze from it to Link. Link couldn't help but look down. He was so disheartened by Sheik's hurt expression, and he could hardly tell him in the first place… "Ponn had sacrificed herself in the Temple for you," Link said finally, and Sheik only continued to look at him as he went on. "She weakened Bongo Bongo considerably, before I got hurt. She saved my life twice in there. I'm just ashamed that I couldn't save hers." His voice trembled as it broke off and Link looked at Sheik, who was staring, his only exposed eye glittering, something irregular in their depths, at the ground. For a while, they just sat there, two boys deprived of their shared best friend. (1)

Then, Sheik stood, his eye glazed over and staring at the ground emptily, setting the instrument down with a strange gentleness. After a moment of silence, Link staring at him all the while, Link spoke. "Sheik?" he asked, and Sheik looked at him briefly before taking two steps back. Then, he turned and ran to the wooden fence, jumping it skilfully and flipping as he landed on the ground below. Link watched as he sprinted across the graveyard and vanished up the path to Kakariko.

Link sat there wordlessly for a few moments before suddenly realising the urgency of Sheik's running; where would he go to, what would he do when he was there? Link got to his feet, ignoring his belongings, and quickly climbed the creaking fence, jumping off and rolling when he hit the ground. The wind still hummed past his ears as he got up and began to run, but he didn't care. He headed under the archway to Kakariko, not looking back.

* * *

Link arrived in the town and looked about, surprised to see that most of it was back to the way it was. The Shooting Gallery was totally intact, but that was because its walls were brick. Most of the houses had all their walls restored, and a few were missing roofs, but the townspeople were going about their way, helping one another fix rooftops in a friendly manner.

Link looked about until he saw Anju, the Cuckoo Lady, and he ran to her, catching her attention from the corner of her eye. She turned to him, smiling once she saw him, but it faded as he approached her and launched hurriedly into asking where Sheik was. Seeing the urgency in his eyes, she wasted no time in replying.

"Master Sheikah went up to Master Impa's house, sir," she replied. "He owns it now; the deed was left in the doorway, signed under his name. He seemed just as surprised as we were to find it like that. Surely she must've told him about it, wouldn't you think so, sir? Anyway, he went inside in a hurry." Link sighed of relief, thanking the woman warmly before running toward the stairway leading to Impa's house and going to the door, stopping and hesitating at it, unsure of whether or not to knock. Choosing the honest way, he knocked, hearing no response or movement on the other side.

"Sheik?" he asked, knocking again; still no answer. "It's Link, Sheik. Please, open the door." There was still not a single reply from inside the door. Link looked at the sky; it was blue, but streaked with vermillion clouds, and the sun was setting in an orange backdrop, while the side of the world opposite it was purple and laden with darkness. He looked back to the door, expecting no answer tonight. Where did that leave him? His pack was in the graveyard; he'd have to go fetch that. And then where'd he sleep tonight? There was the chance of going back to the campsite, but he felt his heart wrench at the idea of going back and seeing nobody waiting for him—and his gut wrung itself out in either direction when he thought of Arestol; what would happen to her? The loyal mare wouldn't respond to anybody's affection but Ponn's.

He shook his head, averting his attention to the matter at hand. Where would he go for the night? Ruling out the campsite with a thousand good reasons, he looked at the next option, which actually just lingered below him. He looked down at the inn, which was built in place of the House of Skulltula. The thought of sleeping in a bed didn't actually interesting him, considering the fact that he hadn't slept in one for almost a decade now, too busy sleeping in a crystal in a chamber or on the grass (occasionally in a dungeon) to really recall what a feather mattress felt like. He looked around, hoping to find a good place to linger without being caught; and smiled, noticing the house was snug against a cliffside, and the rooftop was drastically sloped.

He jumped down onto the ground and ran, once again, to the graveyard, retrieving his items and carefully gazing at Ponn's treasured item before replacing it gently in his pack. He returned to the town and back up the steps, now more heavily armed than before.

Using his hookshot, he aimed at the roof adjacent to him and pulled himself to it, once again hookshooting, this time to Sheik's rooftop. Then, he moved toward the cliffside and gently wedged himself between the rooftop and the wall of terra firma that stood proudly next to him. The thought of food made him sick, especially when it was inevitably to be cooked over a controlled fire rather than a blazing one, and so he merely set his items to the side, carefully stuck on a patch of roof so they wouldn't fall over in the night. Then, he stared at the slowly darkening sky, feeling his eyes droop as he gave little thought to anything else but Ponn and Arestol, and wishing in vain that he was back by a campsite, letting Ponn sing him to sleep with her gentle strumming and her jocund song.

* * *

_It was midday. The sun was halfway through the sky, at zenith, set in as beautiful a hue of blue as Link had ever seen. He was standing in Princess Zelda's courtyard; all was as it should've been, except that Zelda wasn't there herself. He moved cautiously toward the window, noticing it was shorter than it had been before. He looked at his feet; he was still grown up. Confused, he kneeled slightly and looked through the window, having nothing better to do._

_Inside, he noticed someone in the King's Courtroom walking rather beautifully to the right, toward the throne; it looked like a lady, with adornments in her hair and a lovely fitting of clothes. She appeared to have black hair and tan skin, on closer inspection, and her eyes glowed magenta. Link didn't know why, but there was something sinister about her._

_And then he heard feet behind him, and tore his gaze from the window, rolling off to the side in the bushes and peeking out of them to see a woman, dressed slightly less regally than the last one he'd seen, rushing toward the door, her long brown hair flowing unevenly behind her head. She seemed hassled. Just as she got to it, however, someone dropped in front of her, and she ducked as they swung a dagger at her. Surprisingly suited for battle, she swung her leg sideways and clipped their ankle, making them stumble and lose the dagger. They lunged at her quickly, and he could see it was a Gerudo assassin. The girl was caught around the waist and they fell to the ground together, the Gerudo atop the girl. And then the girl grabbed the Gerudo's arms as she swung down at her, and raised herself to a seat, despite the Gerudo's struggling. She quickly and efficiently head-butt her, and the assassin swooned, the girl pushing her off to the ground to rush to the door. Jiggling the handle, she found it locked. _

_"Oh, come on!" she cried, pounding her fists on the door, and Link recognized that voice. "Princess Zelda!" she screamed, her throat hoarse. "Zelda, open the door!" Link stared at her as she continued this strange act of urgency. He never would've known it was her; she was too groomed to be her, but that voice…_

_Link came out of the bushes and hurried to the door, the girl turning and jumping out of the way as he kicked it down. He stepped out of the way, looking at the girl, who was kneeling, her face an expression of complete surprise. Then, the girl nodded, and she ran inside as fast as her dainty shoes could carry her. She rushed toward the door to the Courtroom, Link following. They stopped short of the door, as two Gerudo assassins came out from both sides and began attacking them. Link instantly took part, fighting the Gerudo with ease. The fight was a blur; he could hardly take it in before he was delivering the final blow. He finished off his foe as she finished off hers, and then she ran to the door, breaking it in with her shoulder. _

_She ran to the girl, who was kneeling like Ganondorf had, and tackled her abruptly. They rolled across the ground, the woman's adornments flying about everywhere as she glared at the brunette on top of her. Zelda, who was sitting on her throne, stood, her mouth a gaping 'O' as she watched the two girls brawl it out. _

_The dark-haired girl, tanner than the other one, threw her forcefully across the floor, watching her roll and grunt as she got to her feet, running after her and trying to slam her heel into her stomach; but the girl rolled again, jumping up on her hands and landing on her feet again. She pulled a bow from where it was strung on her back and slammed the other girl across the face with it, making her stagger to the side. She then rushed to the side, turning the bow and pulling it down over the other girl's head, choking her with it. The girl struggled against the brunette, pushing her hands against it from where they were trapped underneath it. The brunette grit her teeth and tried to hold her, but the black-haired girl would see nothing of it, and she brought her leg behind the brunette's, pulling forward and knocking her off her balance. She hadn't thought this out thoroughly, though, as Link could see by the expression of surprise on her face when she collapsed backward with her, effectively choking herself. The brunette's neck broke the bowstring, however, and so she rolled away without being choked, coming to straddle the brunette again. Her legs kicked underneath her as the girl held the broken bow to her throat, and the brunette used her free hand to punch the other in the face, watching her head turn to the side as she did so. She then bucked her hips and the other fell off her. She grabbed the other by her hair and turned her over forcefully, pressing her flat on her stomach and straddling her, her knees trapping the girl's arms. Then, the brunette, panting, turned to Zelda._

_"She has been conspiring against us all along, my Princess," she said. "She is covering up for her assassins now as they plotted to kill me and steal the plans I had for the guard's routines. They were hoping to kill you, Your Majesty." The girl underneath her squirmed and screamed indignantly, unintelligible, so the brunette just pressed her fistful of hair down lower, and mushed the girl's head against the ground. Link could've sworn he saw her grin._

_Zelda's eyes flickered over the girl before she smiled at the brunette. "Well done," she said. "I knew I was correct in naming you Head of Security. If you would so kindly escort this woman off the grounds, I feel I shall be further indebted to you." The brunette nodded, getting off the girl and lifted her handful of hair, hearing the woman squawk. She led the girl to the door, and Link stepped to the side to allow her to go past, but the Princess uttered an abrupt, "Wait."_

_The girl looked back, and Link peaked around the doorway to see Zelda's smile grow more intimate. "Thank you so much, Ponphelle."_

_Ponn, as Link assumed it to be, merely smiled in return. "Call me Ponn, Majesty," she replied, and she began leading the girl out the door. She paused, however, when she saw Link leaning against the wall. Her features grew unsure for a moment before she offered a warm smile. He returned it, and hers became less doubtful; more genuine and sincere. _

_"Pardon my asking," she said. "But I think I know you from somewhere. Have we… met before?"_

_Link's smile faltered as he looked her up and down. She was wearing a dull gold-coloured dress, the edges and sequins embroidered with a light pink. The neck of it was white with golden buttons and pink edges. The sleeves were long and cuffed with leather. It was strange to see her in a skirt without any shorts underneath it, especially with her thigh-high socks of pink, laced with gold, and her long knee-high boots, white with a gold stripe up the front. In her hair were two ties placed at random. She looked graceful, but still commanding respect. Just like Ponn used to be._

_He shook his head in response. "No," he replied. "We've never met."_

_Ponn looked uncertain, unease flashing in her olive eyes, but she smiled anyway. "Well," she said. "I hope to be seeing you around. And… thank you."_

_With that, she disappeared out the door._

* * *

It had been two days since Link had the dream about Ponn. Despite how excruciatingly slow the days had gone by, death's shadowy grip seemed to loosen with every hour, the coil in his stomach slackening every second. He slowly got himself to eat, to exercise, and to communicate. Soon he was helping the villagers rebuild their town, handing up bales of hay to help keep the rain out until they finished and to insulate and helping repair walls, learning how to frame a wooden house and how to make sure a roof stayed intact.

_Ponn was right, _he mused inwardly, _you do learn a lot of homely things around Kakariko._

Despite recently recovering from a state of distress, the village was blithe, loud with laughter and good-natured humour. The villagers refused to be down any longer, instead opting out for hardworking days whistling while they worked and wonderful nights at the Inn, sharing rounds of ale and getting to know each other a little better every day. All was as it should be for them.

Sheik, on the other hand, did not go outside on those two days. He had not been heard of since Anju had last seen him, and though Link filled increasingly with worry, he saw no way to ask the Sheikah if he was alright. He didn't want to impose on Sheik's much-needed thinking and dwelling time; he'd let the Sheikah dwell and feel pain, too angry with Impa's behaviour to allow Sheik to undergo the same for the sake of the 'Sheikah way'.

"How's that, Anju?" came a cry from one of the youthful construction workers—Link had learned that this was Darron, the man whom Ponn made laugh by her witty reply to his teasing when they first crossed through Kakariko. Like himself, Darron was blonde, but his hair was shorter, his eyes a lighter shade of blue, and his skin tanner. He was a Kakariko villager to the bone.

And he was also currently straining against a wall, holding it up with Link's much appreciated help as he asked Anju if it was lined correctly with the roof, which balanced on the other three walls. It had begun raining more often, and so they roofed the houses as fast as they could, leaving the putting up of the final wall to be extremely awkward.

Anju tilted her head, her auburn hair swaying to the side. "Ehh…" she said, and then she tilted her head the other way. "Push it a little more," she replied, and Darron and Link pushed it in together. "Hmm," she said, tilting her head once again, before suddenly yelling, "Stop!" Darron and Link stopped as fast as they could, and they both looked at her apprehensively. "Hmm…" she contemplated with her hand on her chin. "Now it's too far in."

Darron groaned, and then looked at Link. "Hey, Hero, I'll go around to the other side and give it a shove; stabilise it on this end and we're good, alright?" he said, and Link nodded. Darron clapped him appreciatively on the shoulder before running around to the front door of the building. Link spread his palms across the smooth surface of the wooden wall before looking about the village aimlessly—and pausing when he saw someone sitting on Sheik's rooftop. From the way he saw a mix of blonde, white, and purple, he could only assume it was the Sheikah himself.

Link stared a moment before he felt another hand on his shoulder, and he looked down a little to see Anju smiling at him. "Why don't you go and see Master Sheikah, huh? I'm sure he'd like your company above anyone else's."

Link smiled, but looked uneasily toward the front of the building. Anju scoffed, and he looked back at her. "I can handle Darron and the wall, Master Link," she replied. "You just handle Master Sheikah."

Link's smile grew and he nodded, releasing his grip on the wall. "Thank you, Anju," he said, before heading toward Sheik's house. He approached the door, once again turning to the side and hookshooting onto the roof, then he hookshot to the Sheikah's roof, landing on the opposite end of him. Putting his hookshot away, he walked across the roof, glad he'd had practice in this area. Sheik looked up at him as he approached, but didn't say anything as Link sat next to him.

They were quiet for a few moments, watching the village work. And then Sheik spoke, and Link felt strange as he realised he actually missed Sheik's soothing voice. "I am sorry," Sheik said, and Link looked at him strangely.

"Why are you sorry, Sheik?" he asked, and Sheik's gaze remained on the surrounding village.

"Because I haven't been a friend to you," he said quietly. "I've been locking you out, not speaking to you… That would give me reason to break down the door." Link didn't really like this change in Sheik's behaviour; he used to be cocky. Arrogant. Stubborn. What happened to change him? Was losing Ponn all that was necessary to break the mighty Survivor of the Sheikah?

"I understand where you're coming from, though," Link said. "I know what you've been through. I grieved on my own, and it felt good to be by myself, to mull things over. I didn't want to deprive you of that. Especially because of the rejuvenating rush you get when you finally return to the light."

Link turned to Sheik to find that Sheik was already staring at him, his eye crinkled lightly with a hidden smile that lingered beneath the folds of his Sheikah bandages. "Such a rush," Sheik replied sarcastically, and Link grinned.

"Hey, we're not all Sheikah like you," he teased.

Sheik stood, stretching himself before continuing to look over the village. Then, he said, "You should sleep inside tonight. You've been lucky enough to avoid the rain while you were sleeping out here, but I think you won't miss it tonight. The clouds are rolling in quickly. They'll unload their burden before they've come and gone."

Link shrugged. "I'm all for a little shower or two, but if you insist, I shall be obliged to share lodgings with you."

Sheik scoffed and the sound, to Link, was familiar. "Don't flatter yourself," he said curtly. "This is just to prevent you from pounding on my door in the middle of the night and wailing like a Cuckoo. I figured you could use your dignity."

Link slapped a hand to his forehead.

* * *

It was around two hours after sunset that Sheik and Link had finally retired to bed. Strangely enough, having slept in the same camp as each other, they were comfortable sharing a house, despite the fact that Ponn wasn't there to stay up a little later than they and there was no popping or crackling of a fire to soothe him to sleep. Link was so unused to staring into complete darkness before drifting off to sleep.

_Link felt the softness of grass beneath his feet as he looked about the courtyard once again, feeling familiar in this place. He looked more intently for signs of life, and found none—save the girl who was sitting on a bench in the middle of the clearing. She was ripping the petals off a daisy and staring listlessly at the ground. Her brown hair was still adorned with courtly things, and she was dressed the same, but her eyes were not frantic and determined; rather, far off, as if she had a lot to think about. _

_Link walked rather carefully to where she was, and she turned quickly upon hearing him, but sighed of relief when she realised it was him. She turned back to her flower. "Hello again, Anonymous Hero. It seems that every time I muse over something or have something that needs doing, you're here to straighten me out."_

_Link smiled. "I suppose you have something troubling you at this moment?"_

_She scoffed. "But of course." She whirled around to face him, her legs lifting over the bench and settling on the other side gracefully, a delicate and rather feminine movement for someone he used to know as masculine and rather… Genderless, actually. Link had never seen her as a gender. It was odd for him to see her now, wearing royal clothes and wearing girlish adornments. She was even sitting properly, too._

_"I am all ears if you're willing to tell me, O Ponphelle," Link said, bowing, and she smiled at this silly action._

_"I want to know more about you." Link flinched. She didn't hesitate to pull it all up front, did she? "Where we've met—because I **know **we have—what we've done together, why I mean so much to you. I know it in the way you treat me; no random stranger helps out a Hylian in a fight without reason. You may be that good guy that's just like that, but I'm not entirely sure that's totally the case. You didn't just help me, you stuck around. I doubt it was for the catfight that ensued. You must really care." She furrowed her brows. "But, according to you, we've never met. We're strangers. You just saw someone in need and went 'hey, I ought to help' and rushed to their assistance. Which reminds me to ask you how you keep getting past my regiment of guards lingering outside this courtyard, but I'll let that slip because I like your company. So…" she said, resting her chin on her palms, her elbows resting on her kneecaps. "Ready to spill the beans?"_

_Link instinctively looked everywhere else but at the pondering Ponn, trying to avoid the question physically. He looked at the sky and noticed the hues of sunset; he looked at the ground and noticed three plucked daisies at her feet. Then he looked at her, because there was nowhere else to look, and was lost, then and there. He sighed, pulling off his hat and wringing it in his fingers. Then, he sighed. "The thing is, Ponn…" he began—_

And then the dream was shattered by an ear-piercing scream.

Link shot up in his bed, pulling his sword from his sheath. His heart began to pound as he scrambled out of bed, hearing a heavy breath being drawn before the scream resumed full force. He ran to the staircase, hearing the scream come from up there, and he ran up the stairs, turning and looking at Sheik—or, where he should've been. He was writhing on the floor a few feet from his bed, screaming and thrashing. Link dropped his sword and ran to him, trying to grab him.

"Sheik!" he hissed, grabbing at an arm, but it slipped from his grip as Sheik continued to fight the nothingness that consumed him. He could hear where Sheik's limbs were hitting the floor brutally, noticing Sheik's head smacking the floor a few more times than he'd like it to. The Sheikah's lithe body was lashing out dangerously, and Link approached with caution as Sheik's movements took him closer to the wall.

"Sheik, you'll wake up the whole village!" Link said louder, and he finally found purchase in an arm. The bad effects of this nearly outweighed the good as barrages of poorly-devised attacks were released on the thing holding onto Sheik's arm. Link dodged a leg that came to his jaw by ducking his head back, and the other leg hit him firmly in the stomach. He grunted, but willed himself not to collapse, instead sucking in a deep breath and catching Sheik's other fist as it flew at his face, sliding his grip to the wrist. Despite this, Sheik continued to scream and writhe, and Link walked him slowly to the wall, making sure not to step on his wayward legs, which flailed and trailed underneath him. He pushed Sheik to the wall, sitting on his legs and thus keeping him still, pushing his hands above his head with one hand while pinning his chest with the other. He looked firmly into Sheik's wild, red eyes, seeing nothing but terror in their depths.

"Sheik!" Link yelled, a little angrier than he wanted to sound, and it stunted the Sheikah's struggle. "Sheik, it's me, it's Link. Come back to me, please." Slowly, Sheik's eyes focused on Link's, and his screams died into whimpers, which then turned into quiet sobs. Link's heart dropped into his stomach as he watched the Sheikah's eyes close and tears stream down his face and into the folds of his cowl. Link felt his body spasming and decided not to let go of his arms or get off his legs yet. Instead, he watched the impassive Sheikah break down into pieces before him.

"I'm sorry, Link," he said, his voice broken, and Link's heart dropped even lower, if at all possible. "I'm so sorry you had to… To see that."

Link felt relief that he was once again coherently speaking, and so he said, in a relieved tone, "I'm just glad you stopped screaming, Sheik." He let Sheik's wrists go, and Sheik dropped his arms to his sides. Link leaned on his haunches, still on Sheik's legs, but he didn't notice. His face grew softer, as did his voice. "What was wrong, Sheik? What made you scream like that?"

Sheik's eyes were averted to the ground to his left, his hands rubbing his wrists absently. "I dreamt of Ponn," he replied, and he said no more, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He was still crying, judging by the increasing wetness of his cowl, and he was far too stressed to go about doing that anymore. Link sighed, putting a hand on Sheik's shoulder. He didn't open his eyes.

"Sheik," he said, and this time, Sheik did open his eyes, looking at Link, but not changing the position of his head. He looked extremely tired this way. "Do you want to stay up? I'll stay up with you, we could make a fire outside or make some tea—"

"No, Hero," Sheik replied, and then he chuckled, but it was kind of off, slightly insane-sounding. He knew Sheik was far from insane, but still… The sound was disconcerting.

Sheik leaned forward a bit, not acknowledging the fact that Link was still straddling his legs, and chuckled again. "Hey," he murmured off-handedly, and Link looked at him curiously. "I want to take this damn cowl off. Promise not to report me to the Sheikah Police? I'm violating a rule by doing this, but I can't go to sleep with a wet cowl. It's like diving in icy water with clothes on."

Link nodded, his heart in his throat as Sheik set to the task. He'd never seen Sheik without a cowl on, and so he was eager to see his face. He hadn't wanted to ask or push the matter beforehand because of his precarious bond with the Sheikah before, and he especially didn't want to ask now, him being the way he was. Some part of him said it was wrong to be excited when Sheik was in the middle of a misfortune, but he dismissed it, saying it'd help Sheik anyway. And so he watched as Sheik unravelled the bandages around his face and lowered them to a pile on the floor next to him.

Link managed to stop his gasp in his throat. He hadn't really expected much of Sheik when he took off his bandages, but he was shocked at how utterly beautiful the Sheikah really was. Beautiful cheekbones jutted out of flawless, tan skin, and ruby eyes merely accentuated the long, messy strands of sandy hair that brushed his forehead. Link had much more to say about Sheik's lips but he couldn't think any more, for soon those ruby eyes were staring straight into his and an entirely readable expression crossed Sheik's exposed face; amusement.

One golden eyebrow was cocked haughtily as he gauged Link's reaction. "What, am I hideous?" he asked, smirking. Link sat there in silence on Sheik's legs before a peaceful smile crossed his face. He leaned toward Sheik, who blushed lightly and was glad it was, for the most part, dark, and brushed his thumb under Sheik's eye, removing the last of the tears.

"No," he said, closing his eyes and smiling. "You're beautiful."

Sheik's expression melted as he looked at Link's sublime little smile. The whole of his body screamed at him, saying that Link really meant it; that he wasn't supposed to be wearing a cowl because Link thought he was **beautiful **without one, and he was filled with the overwhelming urge to reciprocate, to say something that's been on his mind for a while.

He scoffed, trying to pass off his next statement as simply being cocky or modest, or maybe a crazy mixture of both. "Yeah, not as pretty as **you**, Hero," he replied. Link's eyes opened and his smile lingered, and he opened his mouth to say something, but then paused, his blue eyes growing in diameter as he suddenly looked at Sheik, his eyes moving quickly. Sheik's own eyes widened as he tried to figure out what just happened between two seconds ago and now and left Link gaping and catatonic. Sheik looked at Link, trying to understand what was on his mind, when he suddenly realised it.

_Oh, wow, we're only, what, two inches from one another?_

The thought lost all merit for being a realisation. It seemed the most obvious thing in the world right now. That wasn't even a discovery worth crediting. It was silly and childish that he hadn't known that before. Everyone would soon be talking about it, and common knowledge would soon dictate that Sheik and Link were **_two inches_** from each other—

And then Link somehow managed to shut up his mind. Well, he was talented; after all, he was the Freakin' Hero of Time.

But wasn't a kiss a little much?

His lips had pressed against Sheik's softly, his eyes closed as he tentatively moved against Sheik's startled mouth. Sheik's eyes were wide open, meanwhile, and his brain had a slight meltdown as Link's hands came up to Sheik's chest, pushing him slightly as Link propped his leaning weight into Sheik. Sheik's hands were frozen at his sides, limp on the floor as the Hero gently caressed his lips with his own.

Just as he was about to pull away, though, one of the hands sprang into action, grabbing his bicep and pulling him in to halt his retreat. Sheik began to respond to the kiss, as his body strongly urged him to, and Link sighed, pushing himself into Sheik again.

It began slowly, each movement smooth and deliberate, meaningful and true, a way to explain without words how they'd felt for a while. And then it grew a little more heated when Sheik's tongue brushed Link's lips, and they were soon fighting each other's tongues savagely and carelessly. Sheik was barely aware of Link's fingers gripping the clothing at Sheik's chest, too busy kneading Link's back with his own to even care.

There was no time to talk, truthfully. No time for either to pull back and say, 'wait a sec, what are we doing, where's this going?', and certainly no time for doubt. With the death of Ponn came the birth of their own mortality, and in a life so short, in the midst of a task so dangerous, they had no time to question themselves. They either had to say it with actions that explained the urgency or walk out now.

Neither could walk. Too bad.

One of Link's hands sought out Sheik's arm and pulled it away from him, pushing it to the wall. The other one did the same for the other arm, and Link soon grasped both Sheik's wrists in one hand, still holding him to the wall. He broke the kiss and grinned, going immediately to his neck and giving one generally vicious suck, nibbling on the offended skin. Sheik groaned and his back arched as Link continued his ministrations, moving closer to get better access. As he nibbled carelessly on one particularly sensitive spot, Sheik gave a throaty groan and bucked up into Link, who rested his forehead on Sheik's shoulder and groaned as well; by growing closer, he'd exposed himself to Sheik's reactions and thus became a victim himself. For a while they remained there, both panting from the sudden realisation that they were both, indeed, very turned on right now. Link's hand shook but still held Sheik captive, and Sheik leaned his head back, his eyes still closed. There was a giant gaping hole in his stomach and he felt there wasn't enough air in his lungs. His neck throbbed at the sensation hickeys left. After a minute of regaining his composure, he looked down at Link, smirking when he found that he was still dazed. Deciding not to play nice, for Link wasn't playing nice either, he got even; he bucked up into him again.

Link let out a long-winded moan as he bit down on Sheik's shoulder, causing heat to leap to Sheik's face. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and looked away, stifling his own groan of appreciation—_who knew I'd be a damn masochist?—_and trying desperately to control his bodily urges. He could feel Link's breath through the thin fabric of his clothes, and he opened his eyes and looked back at Link, seeing his neck stretched out tantalisingly before him. He leaned forward gently, darting in and biting softly on Link's neck and giving an apologetic suck as Link groaned, still biting Sheik's shoulder, and whimpered. Sheik felt his erection—_when the HELL did I get one of those?_—quiver at the sound and he bucked into Link in a sudden spasm he could only blame on ecstasy.

Link groaned again, and he ground into Sheik sensually, Sheik moaning throatily into the otherwise silent room, which suddenly grew very hot, despite their lack of a fire. Link pulled back from Sheik's shoulder, trying to lean into kiss him, but Sheik knew what he was doing; trying to silence his beautiful, musical sounds; and he wouldn't have it. He bucked up into Link again, and he saw those beautiful blue eyes slam shut, Link gritting his teeth as he let a shuddering breath glide through them. Sheik was disappointed in the lack of a sound, and so he tried again, bucking up more ruthlessly this time, and Link let loose a beautiful moan, his mouth opening as he panted, his eyes still squeezed shut. Sheik then closed the gap between them with an open-mouthed kiss, and Link groaned again, his hand on Sheik's chest pressing as he dragged it down, and then poked it underneath the fabric of Sheik's shirt.

Sheik shuddered as he felt the hand glide up his chest, and Link drew back from the kiss, his blue eyes focused entirely on Sheik's face as he responded to the calloused hand caressing his chest intimately. Deciding to take his chance, Link released Sheik's wrists and removed his hand from under Sheik's shirt, leaving him entirely free—

Sheik tackled Link and worked at his throat, straddling him eagerly as he worked on the buckle of his tunic, biting Link's neck and sliding his belt off. Link sat up a little, supporting himself with one arm as Sheik slid his tunic up and around the free arm before looping it to the one anchored to the floor. He let it rest there while he tried to work on Link's white undershirt, but froze when Link began lifting up his own shirt, his hands on either side, stretched like a spider's legs as his tongue followed the newly exposed skin wherever it showed. Sheik huffed, his skin tingling wherever Link's tongue went, and he allowed his tight shirt to be pulled entirely over his head and thrown elsewhere. Then, Link removed his tunic from his arm while Sheik pulled at his shirt, pulling it impatiently over his head. He was now straddling Link's lap. Being a Sheikah, he wore all his clothes to sleep, while Link habitually removed his gloves, boots, and hat before he went to sleep.

That was quite the advantage for a turned-on Sheikah.

As Link pulled his shirt off his arms above his head, Sheik leaned down and sucked on his collarbone eagerly, making Link shiver and stop in the middle of his work. Sheik undid his own bandages around his hands before he ran his splayed fingers up Link's ribs on either side, switching contentedly to Link's other collarbone. Apparently this sparked something in Link, because he arched his back and spoke something coherent for the first time in a few minutes.

"Ngh… _Sheik…_"

All action stopped. Sheik looked up incredulously at Link, whose head was thrown back and eyes closed in bliss.

_Holy shit…_

Link had **definitely** thought of this before.

The way he'd just said his name was proof of it. It was sensual, it was erotic, it was sexy…

But most of all, it was chocked, full to the brim, of overly-stimulating, deeply-thought-of, ever-present, hot-blooded, fervent and zealous **_lust. _**

Sheik felt a flame shoot through his body as he urgently made up for lost time gaping, stretching himself up to Link and meeting his lips in an ardent kiss that set fire to a pool of heat growing inside him. Link responded with equal enthusiasm, gripping Sheik's hips as he lay down again and pulling him to straddle his toned stomach. Then, his hands wandered to his thighs, massaging them suggestively before sliding a hand between Sheik's legs.

Sheik broke the kiss to give a throaty moan he knew he'd definitely be sorry for later. As Link began massaging that ready point between his legs, his conscience seemed to have found something to say that Sheik would agree entirely to for once, and so it spoke up within the confines of his ever-stunned mind.

_Sheik, when are you going to stop freakin' **thinking** about everything and **just have sex**?_

Link applied pressure and Sheik shouted as Link began to chew greedily on his exposed collarbone. "Augh, Link!" he said in an inhuman manner, his fingers digging into Link's ribcage. "Mnn, more!" He begged without even meaning to, too caught up in the stimulating hand between his legs to care what he sounded like.

Link's actions seemed to freeze momentarily before his hand slid down Sheik's body, Link pushing him onto his back, his body between Sheik's legs. His hand moved down to the hem of his pants and he pushed two fingers in, slowly lowering the fabric down, moving his head down from Sheik's collarbone to nip and kiss random places on Sheik's stomach, stopping his journey momentarily to play with Sheik's navel, lapping at it deliberately. Sheik groaned at the sensation, his pants leaving him, his body now completely exposed for the hero to do with what he would; and by the goddesses, he would.

After effectively exhausting Sheik's navel, he licked a trail lower before suddenly licking up Sheik's member, causing the Sheikah to groan loudly. Link settled his hands on Sheik's hips as he took Sheik's head into his mouth and gave a gentle suck. "Damn," came Sheik's reaction, a meagre hiss accompanied with squeezed eyes; very suppressed; and Link lifted his head, smirking at Sheik, who was panting heavily.

"Not loud enough, Sheik," he said, and he lowered his head once again, sucking a little more violently and with less warning. Sheik jumped and groaned, but Link still wasn't satisfied. "Still not enough," he murmured, and so he took more of him into his mouth, humming as he sucked ruthlessly; and this time he smiled genuinely as he got the reaction he was looking for.

"Ahh_, Link_! Please, Link, don't t-tease me like this!"

"Much better."

Sheik's eyes had closed long ago, and he couldn't open them for the life of him, gasping and moaning loudly every time Link acted on his urges. Sheik absently wondered if this was Link's first time, but as Link's lips lowered further down his length, he let the thought slip his preoccupied mind.

"Mnn, Link, m-hah!-more! Ahh!" Link's eyes opened and he looked up at Sheik, still sucking, to see him writhing beautifully on the floor; not painfully as he was earlier. This was how the Sheikah's body was meant to be seen writhing on the floor; naked, groaning, powerfully under the influence of pure ecstasy.

And then he saw Sheik's teeth grit and his eyes squeeze shut even more, his body tensing as he felt a new sensation coming on. "W-wait, Lin-ahh-Link, I don't th-think I—hahhh! I'm g-gonna…!"

That was all he could muster to say before he came to an explosive orgasm, giving a deep, throaty moan as he arched his back up: "_Link…_"

Link swallowed the bitter liquid bravely, crawling up Sheik's limp and sweaty body before taking his lips in a kiss that wasn't quite as searing as all the other ones before—not quite—but still had a sense of urgency. Sheik groaned, still feeling the waves of orgasm as they receded and left him, at the taste of his own essence in Link's mouth. Link groaned in turn, and Sheik realised, as he opened his eyes and looked into Link's, that he hadn't been fulfilled at all during those last few minutes. Quickly formulating a plan, Sheik grabbed Link's shoulders and flipped them over, straddling Link's still-clothed hips effectively.

Link moaned at the contact of Sheik's body on his clothed need, and Sheik steadily rolled his hips into Link's, eliciting moans and gasps from Link, who bucked up slightly, trying to restrain himself from shamelessly dry-humping Sheik. Sheik, seeing Link writhe, grew slightly excited again, and so he lewdly stripped him of his pants, leaving him in the nude as well. And then, taking the example he was just so gracefully given, he lowered his mouth to Link's head and took it in his mouth, lathering it generously with his saliva while holding Link's hips down.

Link groaned, hips twitching as Sheik gave one last suck before releasing him entirely and repositioning himself. "Don't worry, Hero," he rasped gently, his voice raw from all the groaning and moaning he'd done. "You'll do your fair share of thrusting a moment, you'll see. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel."

Link's eyes suddenly shot open as he realised what this implied, but as he leaned up to try to protest, Sheik impaled himself entirely on Link. He instantly shut his eyes again, moaning at the tight feeling of Sheik around him. But upon hearing Sheik whimper, he grit his teeth and sat up, trying this hardest not to buck; Sheik's squirming was not helping his resolve any.

But he was resolute in helping his lover. "Sh-Sheik…" he breathed, and Sheik wrapped his arms around Link's shoulders and rested his head on his shoulder, shuddering. Link wrapped his arms around Sheik's back and rubbed it soothingly. "Why didn't you w-warn me that you were going to d-do that?"

"Ngh," Sheik tried to begin, but then he suddenly stiffened, the action tightening him around Link, who shut his eyes and begged himself not to do Sheik until he was **_senseless_**.

Suddenly, he felt something wet tracing his earlobe, and he heard a throaty whisper, "Because I wanted to make you feel **_good._**" Sheik drew back and abruptly jumped and dropped himself back on Link, who groaned loudly and thrust upward. Sheik felt something in him spike, something that Link's extra push had hit, and he threw his head back and moaned, doing it again and hoping to hit the same place. This time, Link's thrust was perfectly on time, and the place was hit harder. They moaned in unison as they built up a pace, Sheik overcoming the pain he'd felt by striking his sweet spot again and again. Link gripped his hips and helped himself penetrate him deeper and deeper, until Link's eyes shot open and he pulled Sheik into a heated kiss, both moaning into each other's mouths as they once again achieved orgasm; this time, together.

"Ahh_, Sheik_!"

"_L-Link_!"

They climaxed tumultuously, and then they collapsed on the floor together, Link pulling delicately out of Sheik and trying to stand. Sheik thought it a senseless manoeuvre, but suddenly Link bent down to him and picked him up, carrying him in his arms delicately and laying him in his bed. Sheik's eyes were lidded heavily and so he couldn't see Link. He was about to implore him to stay when Link slid into bed with him anyway and wrapped his arms around him. Sheik sighed, feeling his neck throb and his body buzz deliciously.

"Sheik?" asked Link's voice in the darkness, a near whisper near his face, his breath a soothing heat, and Sheik gave a small 'hn' to ask his question for him.

"I… I love you."

Sheik's eyes suddenly opened and he looked up at Link, seeing the blue eyes glowing as he smiled at the smaller yet older man. "I've loved you since… Since after the Fire Temple. I couldn't… I can't be without you, Sheik." He gripped onto Sheik possessively. "And if this makes you want to run away then go ahead and try." He breathed in the scent of Sheik's hair. "You won't get far."

Sheik chuckled and snuggled into Link's embrace. "I think the Last Sheikah is entitled to make some reforms to the ways of his people. I hereby make it so that I can love you, should I choose to."

"And do you?"

Sheik chuckled again. "Yes, I do."

Link sighed and pulled him closer, and they drifted lazily off to sleep. Sheik heard only one more thing before he went under the solace of unconsciousness.

_Oh, I **so **called it._

_…Conscience, shut up._

* * *

_(1)I hit 34,000 words in this chapter. I found it ironic that the 34,000th word was 'friend', and it was when Sheik and Link were thinking in silence about Ponn and how she was their best friend. So, that was for you, Ponn. _

_YES! SECS! XD I don't think I did a good job; did you know that was my first-ever lemon? Ahh, well, I've been promising you this 'later-to-come naughtiness' since the first disclaimer and I've finally given it to you; I just hope it's to your liking. Haha, can't wait to test the bonds of this relationship with the Spirit Temple! Woo! Love you all! :D_


	10. Chapter 10

The Inane Bystander – Chapter 10

"I don't matter." Over and over again, that's all he said. Well, Link was sick of it. He may not have mattered to himself, but he surely mattered to Link. Shounen Ai, LinkXSheik. M for swears and later-to-come naughtiness. Sheik isn't Zelda in this. Only one OC, but it's nothing.

**Disclaimer:** Wow… I just got inspired by writing this disclaimer. Being a writer is so much fun sometimes! XD Oh, I don't own Zelda or any of the characters (except the tailor and her assistant; but this is their only chapter).

**Warning: **Well, it's evolved into Yaoi now, so it's no longer Shounen Ai. Its innocence is entirely smashed. There's violence, swearing, and mentions of a past OC that has since only made a few appearances. WEWT!

**Tee-hee: **Hey, I wanna know your favourite genres of music. Don't ask why; I want to know, because a song I'm listening to is inspiring me, and I'm curious about whether or not you guys know it. I'll ask in more detail later, but for now, I shall commence Chapter 10!

**WEWT!:** Happy 10th chapter, all! This is officially my longest published fic (going by the most words)! :D

**Sigh:** I suck, don't I? I was supposed to post this chapter on Bystander's birthday. This fic's a year old, guys. Sorry for the wait. *facepalm*

* * *

**((Chapter 10: Shameful Metaphors))**

Morning swept over Hyrule like a blush, vermillion pouring into the sky. Powder-white clouds dotted the sky aimlessly, moving only by consent of the wind. The first few streaks of dawn's light fell, like broken angels, to the ground, liquid gold columns illuminating the earth's flawless face.

By the first streaks of light, Link was awake; upon opening his eyes and habitually blinking out sleep, he looked around. For some odd reason, his faculties found colour to be extremely important today, and he focused on nothing else. The floor glowed where the light hit it, smashing its dull brown colour into pieces, revealing a bright cherry wood. The walls shone a platinum blonde from the reflection of the floor. The one shaft of sunlight that rained through the window illuminated every dust particle that flew in its midst, vaguely reminding Link of the effect that the woods had on him as a child.

And then his eyes strayed to the Sheikah in the bed with him. Blonde hair glowed gold in the sunshine, tan skin taking on a bronze hue. Sheik was made of precious metals in the morning light, and Link was very appreciative of this fact, his eyes tracing Sheik's every contour. Sheik sighed peacefully, turning his head toward Link, who held his breath as he watched the eyelids flutter, but remain closed. He released his breath and smiled genuinely, marvelling in the beauty of the Sheikah. He looked to the window, gauging what time it was from the intensity of the light. Deeming it only just past sunrise, Link gently hoisted himself out of bed, feeling very sated, his skin buzzing happily from a night well-spent. He donned his clothes, his eyes still trained on the Sheikah who rested in the light. He wouldn't wake him or disturb him in any way. Sliding on his cap, he descended the stairs and walked out the door.

Closing it as quietly as he could behind him, Link turned to the town; it was quiet, but he guessed it was from a night well-spent at the inn; people were sleeping in late, nursing hangovers from the excellent brew the inn's pub provided. The town was nearly finished, and so people began to celebrate; never mind how early it was.

Link walked the few paces toward the stairs, adjusting his belt as he walked down them carefully. He had just finished descending them when he'd heard it.

"Where darkness lingers, I shall not! The fire is warm, and the food is hot!"

It was a mixture of song and chant, but Link knew the tune nonetheless. He froze in all of his actions, his hands fiddling with his belt pausing as he listened for more of the mantra he'd memorised like a tattoo to his soul.

"Where I linger, time is well! The birds sing, the flowers swell!"

He grew lightheaded as he stumbled toward the voice; it sounded as if it were going away, moving further from him. Every last shred of his being begged him to follow the sound, and so he did, fastening his belt and setting off at a light jog, so as not to disturb the singer. They continued on cue.

"The people here will take you in; they'll love you as they love their kin! So settle by the riverside, where everyone makes merry!"

Link hurried toward Anju's cuckoo paddock—where the voice resonated—and saw Darron, the source of the voice, walking up the stairs to the windmill. Link stared, not moving or following, but observing. Darron passed the door, not even sparing it a sidelong glance as he jumped up on the thin railing separating him from the ground below. He looked around before sighing and beginning the next verse.

"We'll drink a toast to all the best, and send you off like all the rest! Should you choose to stay in place, a toast will be made in your grace!"

He smiled and ran, jumping from the fence and landing on the stronger wooden one across from him. He landed expertly, as if he'd been doing this his whole life. He ran along it, hopping up onto the land that surrounded the windmill. His voice echoed from that area like an arena.

"Then we'll send you off to bed, and lay down your weary head! And you shall dream of things far off, and no burden shall you carry!"

He rounded the windmill slowly, leisurely; it was enough time for Link to quietly dash to the windmill stairs and brave the same jump Darron had. As he climbed up onto the ledge, he heard Darron sigh, and froze as the voice sang again; softer, though, and more mournfully.

"I knew a girl who came to this place; the sun defined her lovely face. She spoke to me in words so soft, her very laugh held me aloft."

Link felt his heart sink as he quietly rounded the windmill, pressing his shoulder to the stone as he watched Darron stare sadly over the village, as if every age of Hyrule had been witnessed by his eyes; he looked tired and desperate.

"What came of her, I do not know; no love for me she cared to show. She'll wander on, there's no mistake; and I'll remain here, waiting."

Then, he sighed. Link approached him and wordlessly sat next to him, and Darron spared him not a glance. For a while, they surveyed the town, companions in silence. Then, Darron spoke.

"I know what came of her. Don't waste your time in telling me."

Link looked at him, but he still stared over the town. His blonde hair was briefly rustled by the wind. It was apparent from his indifferent expression and his distant eyes that he was elsewhere.

"So you don't need to wait for her anymore," Link breathed, feeling a pit in his stomach. Darron laughed sardonically.

"No, I don't, do I?" he asked in a dark manner, but he hung his head and murmured, "I'll wait anyway."

Link couldn't deny his heart was breaking at the sight. Darron was really hurting for Ponn, wasn't he? Darron shook his head, his hair flying about his head like a frayed patch of hay. "You know," he said, and Link was suddenly attentive to him, looking at his abstract eyes, distracted by distant thoughts floating in the confines of his addled mind. "I grew up with her, here, in Kakariko. She was the new kid when she was younger, living here to give service to the King's horses."

He chuckled darkly. "She was worth so much more. The boys in this little gang called the Brass Knuckle Boys used to pick on her for how she dressed—she refused to blend in, you know, wearing her old Termina clothes instead. The boys used to shove her around and call her 'Termina Termite', thinking she was useless. Well, suddenly their token 'brass knuckles', kept by each member, began disappearing. I'd watched them all disappear, each member be berated by the captain for 'losing' their proof of membership. And then the captain's knuckles disappeared too."

Again, Darron laughed. "He was livid. **That** was when he was convinced someone was stealing them. And Ponn just came out into the open, wearing all the knuckles on both of her hands." Darron's eyes were alight with a type of glee Link had never seen before. "The captain then grudgingly made a bargain with her; leave her alone, keep the knuckles. She threw them back at their proper owners, simply remembering who she stole which from. And then I approached her after all was said and done, and introduced myself. I thought she'd shun me or something, but she just smiled at me and replied with her own. It was a great day."

He sighed. "And then I remember the day she left—she was sixteen, and her father had just died. The kingdom was headed for hell. She swore she'd never come back to Kakariko until she found what she was looking for. I won't lie; I practically begged her to stay. She'd been my best friend since the day she won against the knuckles. She said she'd never stay, and she wasn't sorry for leaving. I asked her what she was looking for. She told me it was hope."

Link watched as Darron sighed, his story trailing into nothingness. Link was hit with the realisation that out of all of the ones who were grieving, he'd probably been hit the hardest. He'd known her longest; he'd watched her grow up, grow stronger under the education of her father; and he'd watched her leave Kakariko, pleading her not to leave. He watched her grow darker as she realised a chance would not simply come to them. She had to seek it.

She had definitely found it in him, he supposed mildly to himself. He hung his head. "Darron," he murmured quietly. "I'm sorry I took her from you." He closed his eyes, feeling the Kakariko villager's eyes staring at him. "I never meant to deprive you of what you loved most." All went quiet for a moment; maybe for thought? Maybe for a simple way to measure out his words before yelling at Link?

No, the silence was not for thought; for Darron was laughing, and Link looked up to see him smiling to himself, giggling and nearly teetering off the side of the sediment. "Did you really just say that? Link, I can't believe you just told me that!" he exclaimed, nearly breathless. "My goodness, Link, you're sorry for absolutely nothing! You never stole her from me. She went looking for you, didn't she, and not the other way around." He calmed down quickly and put a hand on Link's shoulder. "You have nothing to apologise for." His blue eyes sparkled.

He stood, looking better than he had a few minutes ago, and held out his hand for Link to take. Link accepted it gratefully, tugged to his feet by the handyman. "Now, enough depressing talk! I have had my minute of mourning, and now we shall move on. There's a festival going on this afternoon in honour of Kakariko's rebuilding; if you could stall your quest a night longer, we'd love for you to attend." His eyes glimmered with hope.

Link couldn't help but smile at his rather childish expression. "Of course I'll attend," he said, flashing a grin of his own. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Excellent!" Darron replied, heading toward the ladder. "I've got to help the inn prepare; they're in charge of the ale, you see, and I want to make sure they have enough for everyone. If not, I'll just run to the Gorons up in the mountains and see if they don't have any of their special brew. I heard it was hard stuff, but what other choice do we have? Kakariko goes through ale faster than it used to." He laughed again, climbing the ladder down.

"See you tonight, then, Darron," he called, simply jumping off the edge in front of him, rolling on the ground to stabilise his fall. He then began back to the house at a jog to see if Sheik had woken up yet.

He opened the door slowly and entered the house on his tiptoes, intently watching his feet to avoid the creaky floorboards he had memorised earlier. He turned and shutting it quietly behind him, just in case he still slumbered, and turned around, only to see Sheik leaning against the table, all garbed up, holding a mug of what appeared to be steaming tea between both his hands. He wasn't sipping it, for his cowl was up; it merely looked like he was warming his hands. His one visible eye was twinkling with mirth. "You're being awfully cautious there, Hero. Did you intend to not wake me?"

Link smiled sheepishly, still adoring his lover's ability to be cocky so early in the morning. His lover. He smiled at that thought. "I just wanted you to rest well," he said, abandoning the quietness but still speaking in a low tone. "You'd had a rough night last night, what with that nightmare." The other happenings of the night seemed irrelevant. Sheik apparently thought so too, though it appeared his cheeks were red; a bit of his cowl betrayed that quite nicely.

"I had dreamed badly, yes," he said. "But that's no excuse for me to sleep in. I could've gotten assassinated, or attacked. My guard was gaping open—"

"Sheik," Link said, taking the whole two strides it took to approach him quickly and removing the mug gently from his hand, setting it on the table supporting him. His hands were on either side of Sheik's waist. He looked directly into Sheik's eye, and Sheik stared evenly back. Link's hand brushed the hair away from his other eye.

"Not everything has to be about attack or defence. You're in Kakariko; we're safe here. And besides, you know very well that I'd never let anything hurt you. Especially now." Sheik's eyes faltered, darting back and forth between Link's own. "I told you I'm never letting you go."

Sheik's hand hesitantly scaled up his arm as the room grew silent, Sheik's eyes never leaving Link's as it curved across a broad shoulder, arcing up a beautiful neck and burying itself underneath a cap that incidentally fell off. Sheik's other hand remained on the table. Link smiled, leaning forward and nuzzling into Sheik's neck. "I love you."

Sheik laughed dryly as Link just nuzzled, his hand still buried in his hair. "You're going to make me lose myself."

"Get lost in me, Sheik," he replied, shifting so he was whispering in his ear. It wasn't sensual; it was sweet, meaningful, true. "I want to be the forest that engulfs you." Sheik pushed him back lightly, and Link was surprised to see his cowl had disappeared in the transition.

"If you keep saying stuff like that, I'll never come out, you know," he said, smirking. "I want to be lost, and all because of you." He leaned forward and kissed Link lightly. "You seem to possess some kind of manipulative power, Link. People just fall over themselves trying to please you. What must I do to make a lasting impression on you?"

Link laughed quietly, kissing Sheik's nose. "You've already done it." Then, he closed their lips with a kiss. "The others don't even compare," he murmured in between kisses. "My heart belongs to you."

Sheik snorted, tugging on his hair to pull him closer. "Then will you shut up and kiss me?" Link laughed, but obliged politely, pushing Sheik's hips into the table with his own, his hand covering Sheik's hand that remained on the table, the other keeping them balanced on the table's edge.

It was like this for a while; a series of passionate kisses and some bouts of intimate conversation, impatience on Sheik's part (which Link was actually starting to adore) and romanticism on Link's (which Sheik couldn't help but love). And it was in the middle of this that Link remembered about the festival, having forgotten all about it upon seeing Sheik.

"Oh," he said, pulling away from a kiss, and Sheik nipped lightly at his ear as he listened. "Darron asked us to attend the festival here, tonight; in honour of Kakariko's reconstruction. Would you like to go?"

Sheik leaned back flexibly, his hand on his chin as he pondered, almost hovering over the table. "We've only one last temple before we're free from our obligations. I suppose a break is in order, especially after the hellish ordeal we've just undergone."

Hellish. Link's eyes narrowed. "Sheik." Sheik's gaze turned questioning, leaving Link room to continue. "What did Bongo Bongo do to you? When he captured you?" Sheik's eyes turned cold as the memory came back to him. Link thought for certain that he wouldn't tell, but he closed his eyes and sighed before opening them again, effectively giving him a tired look.

"When I was taken by Bongo Bongo, he trapped me in a room of ash and abyss," he began, his tone suddenly calmer. "He began to speak to me. He didn't hurt me, just left me floating on a stone platform above total blackness. It rained ash like snow, there. It was cold, too. It was like he'd trapped me in Death's Stomach after he'd swallowed Kakariko's burning. But he spoke to me. He told me about your progress through the Temple, about how Ponn was with you, about how you two were amiable companions and that I was a third wheel."

Link's expression changed, and Sheik saw it. "I know his words were poison, Link. I know you both cared for me throughout the whole ordeal. He told me how you two never spoke of me, and how you'd supposedly quell off the loneliness in the dark by warming each other with inner fire."

Sheik laughed sardonically. "He was trying to break me mentally, I guess. He spoke of how often you touched one another, and all of the places one could possibly do things in the dungeons. I just sat there and meditated. At one point I could feel his cold hand on me, touching me…" he shuddered. Then, his eyes met Link's and Link was shocked to find a helpless look there. He looked almost on the verge of tears.

Link instantly surged forward, capturing his lips in a tender kiss; and Sheik sighed into it, arms wrapping around Link's shoulders, his responses slow and leisurely. Link intended to capture him in warmth, to dispel all the dark thoughts Bongo Bongo had implanted in him.

"I will always be here to warm you," Link murmured against Sheik's cheek, holding him close. "When nothing else can thaw the ice in your thoughts."

"Warm me," was Sheik's reply, breathy and saddened in his ear.

And Link did.

* * *

Sheik and Link emerged later to help set up the festival with the others, and while Sheik was assigned the acrobatic task of hanging decorations from rooftop to rooftop and various maypoles arranged throughout town, Link was assigned with simply making himself ready for the festival.

"You'll need to change your clothes, of course," Darron said, taking a wide stance with his hand on his chin as he looked him up and down. Anju nodded in agreement as she, too, checked out the Hero of Time.

Link followed his eyes, frowning as he went. "What's wrong with my tunic?"

Anju cut in. "Nothin's wrong with yer tunic," she said. "But Kakariko's festivals are a big deal amongst the villagers. We all come out in our best. Even Master Sheikah has some clothes set aside for these occasions. The favoured colours are bronze, gold—no silver, that's always been reserved for Sheikah guests; silver, indigo, and purple are their colours—green, orange, brown, and yellow. If you've got anything of the sort, ye can wear it."

Link shook his head sadly. "I don't have anything of any of those colours except my tunic." Darron smiled at that.

"We assumed you wouldn't," he said. "So we asked our local tailor if she'd make you something nice. C'mon," he said, patting Link's shoulder. "I'll take you to her shop." He walked Link up the hill, hand still on his shoulder, jabbering about the festivities at hand and the massive amount of guests, the likelihood that someone was going to get drunk and break a table this time (as opposed to last time?) and other inane things. Link was acutely aware of crimson eyes following him; he couldn't see them, but he could feel them.

The tailor's shop was tucked right next to the watchtower, so it wasn't very large; but tailors didn't need much room. He was ushered in by Darron and instantly laid eyes on all sorts of garments; only with the colours bronze, gold, green, orange, brown, and yellow.

Wooden racks lined the front of the store, decorated in these hung garments that fluttered when the door opened. The walls were lined with hand-carved shelves, filled with accessories, shoes, and decorative masks. Behind the fantastic clerk-counter (which was also hand-carved), there stood a rather large man, dressed in, for some odd reason, the darkest brown jacket and breeches Link had ever seen. He looked bored, resting his squared chin on his open palm, staring abysmally into the shop as if it were a hypnotist's watch. His black hair fell halfway over his eyes, but not quite, giving him an inattentive and ultimately sleepy air. His brown eyes looked up at the perky blondes walking through the door and stood, no emotion crossing his face. "Hold up," he said monotonously, and he walked through the beads hanging in the doorway behind him (Link noticed he had to duck a little to get through) and disappeared.

Link turned to Darron, who was walking past all the racks to get to the counter. "I thought you said this tailor was a girl."

Darron turned back to him momentarily. "Oh, she is," he replied, and he continued walking. Link followed him without any other questions, waiting at the counter. Darron was absorbed in an armband he picked up along the way; it was made of boiled leather, ironed to a smooth finish and laced with a thick leather strip to adjust its grip. He said it went well with his own ensemble, and Link even admitted to admiring it. "This tailor does more than tailoring, doesn't she?" he asked, watching as Darron flipped it in his hands.

"Yeah," he replied. "She designs and sews; but everything else, her assistant does. He carved every rack, shelf, stool and door in this shop by hand, and works mostly with the leather and decorative armour. I never thought he'd get into this kind of life, but there are weird things you do for love."

He grinned broadly at Link, taking his confused look as a sign to continue. "He used to be a guard at the castle, don't you know. And then he met the tailor in Castle Town, before it was dreary. He fell instantly in love with her and moved with her, here, to Kakariko when Castle Town was ruined. They instantly started business together, he selling weaponry and armour, and her, selling jewellery and talismans to protect the people. Then, when she got the supplies, she resumed her work as a tailor, and he followed suit, seeing as nobody wanted to fight anything, especially with the weapons he made. My father actually frequently visited him while he still made armour daily, and they'd talk for hours over a new idea he had about something to impale something on. My dad was always too much of a man for my taste, so I never came along."

Darron's tale was interrupted by a loud bang, followed by the large man running out to the counter and past the boys, through the store, effectively knocking over a rack of clothes before darting out the door, which slammed behind him.

"That's right, you keep running and ignore those racks," a voice said from behind the boys—for they'd turned to watch him flee for his life—and they turned, Darron instantly beaming. Link found that he was instantly shocked that the one who sent the behemoth of a man running so fast was so small.

Not that she was tiny, merely dainty; she had spidery hands and thin fingers, small palms and thin arms. Her neck was thin, and her face was elegant. Her black hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she squinted her strange, teal eyes to look at them.

"G'afternoon, gentlemen," she said, having clearly adopted the Kakariko accent as her own. "You must be Master Link. May I just call you Link? I think it'd be easier." She didn't wait for a response; she gestured to Link to follow her and moved behind the curtain—Link noticed her elbow hit the doorframe as she did so. Darron looked to Link to lead, and so he did, walking slowly behind her, for it was very dark in there, and eerily mysterious.

The back was a lot bigger than that meagre doorframe made it look; it was a rectangular room filled with two stoves, a sewing machine at a desk, a desk covered in parchments, and what appeared to be a metalworking smithy in the corner. A fire crackled in its pit.

The tailor was at the sewing desk, staring at the wall opposite her and feeling around for something. She finally picked up a thick leather strip with marks on it and held it out, not handing it to anyone in particular. "Darron, can you measure his biceps, triceps, chest, waist, hips, thighs, and shins for me? You know me, I'm losing my sight. Right now I can't even tell which of you is which. You both look alike."

Darron laughed but graciously accepted the measure, and Link allowed him to take the measurements, figuring it was to fit him just right with the clothes. All was silent for a moment as she moved to her desk, sat down in a flurry of bronze and gold, and began sketching on the paper with a flame pointing directly at it to light her way. Then, as Link held out one of his arms to get measured, he spoke.

"I don't mean to be rude," he said sheepishly, and she turned around, hands on her knees, eyes squinting in his direction. It looked like she was leering, but he was comforted to know it was only her sight going… even though second thought actually told him that was a horrible thing to be relieved about. He decided to ignore that pressing moral issue and instead focused on his question. "But I've given you my name and I haven't heard yours." She smiled, and her squinting eyes looked benevolent.

"I'm sorry," she said amiably. "I forget sometimes that my clients don't always know me. Most of the Kakariko folk know me because they're either Castle Townies like me, or they're villagers. I rarely get outsiders. More to the point, I'm Isa. My rack-tipping, no-good assistant is Zar." Her smile remained. "I'm pleased to meet the Hero of Time. A lot of people would die for the ability to design your festival clothes, you know? Why, just earlier, Anju told me I was a lucky gal for being able to see you half-naked while I fitted you."

Link coughed, having inhaled some of his own saliva (as she'd caught him during a swallow) as he gasped, and Darron laughed. Link gave him a glare, coughing out "You sadist", but it only made Darron guffaw harder as he measured around Link's waist. Isa continued as if none of this was occurring.

"I told her she'd be able to help if I wasn't so certain she'd make you look like a fucking cuckoo."**

Darron's cries grew louder. He leaned his head on the sewing table, where he'd just written down the last measurement, and laughed. Link couldn't help but let out a few chuckles himself, despite his initial awe at the unladylike language he'd heard from her. Not even Ponn had thrown out **that** word. But not everyone was Ponn, he mused; _and, besides, Darron seems to be getting a kick out of it._

"She told me feathers were flattering," Isa continued, arms akimbo. "But I told her no self-respecting Hylian would want to attend a party costuming as poultry. Seriously. What is up with her obsession with those things? They're flightless, moronic birds who are only good for barnyard ambience."

"And instant death and mayhem," Link said instantaneously, and Isa's gaze flitted over to him. "If you attack one of those, they get a bunch of friends to come out of nowhere and beat you senseless; and only a swift horse can outrun a fleet of the angry poultry cavalry. It sounds ridiculous, but trust me; Anju may very well be a harbinger of death and destruction."

"Guys, no!" Darron gasped, sounding more like he needed water for his lungs with every passing second. "I'm going to die of laughter if you keep this up!"

Isa glared at him playfully. "You'd better not before those measurements are done. I've almost got the design ready." Then she turned once again to her paper, scribbling a bit more as Darron finished laughing and recorded the rest of the measurements.

After a few moments, he was done. He set down the leather strip and said, "Alright, Isa; I've got your measurements. Now what would you ask of me?"

She stood from her perch and walked toward them, her nose still buried in her paper. She said, "Can you retrieve some bronze and gold fabric? A bit of yellow would be nice, just a smidge; maybe a four by four square ought to do it. Then, I shall need you to see Zar about some leatherwork I want done, and ask if he can possibly stud a leather belt by the time the festival starts; if he says he doesn't even have the strip readied, then just get an unsoiled strip and some of that coarse gold fabric I have; you know, the see-through stuff? Then I'll need some of that darker leather and a bit of gold velvet. I also want you to talk to Zar about fetching the comb mask I've set aside for whenever I found the right hair to use it. Tell him to cut it into the cruel teardrop idea we talked about, except upside-down. I shall need you to starch a bit of the gold fabric after I cut it out, enough to make it pliable but still firm when I'm done. I also need the gold and bronze paints that I have near the fabrics. I'll need to ask Master Sheikah if I can borrow some of the hair from his bovine's tail; the one that's upstairs in the cage? Just a bit; if he refuses, could you ask Anju if she has a brown cuckoo? Don't let her talk you into any other colour; it's blasphemy. White's too close to silver, anyhow. I'll need to check the shop for any leather boots we possibly have that are roughly as dark as Zar's; if not, could we take one of his old pairs and refine it to fit his foot? We'll need heel-to-toe measurements and wideness measurements if we want it to fit right. Can't have him tripping while he's dancing." She paused a moment and looked over her paper again. Link gaped. Darron was to do all of that? He looked to his companion, but he seemed relatively composed, his hands folded attentively in front of him, watching her with expressionless features. Isa's head shot up and she smiled. "That about does it."

Darron nodded and walked to the door quickly, apparently getting straight on it. "Thank you, Darron!" she called after him, and began gazing at the measurements before sheepishly turning to Link and asking him to read them to her. Link obliged, leaning down and reading them aloud as Darron returned with a large roll of bronze fabric and another, roughly the same size, of gold. On top of it he set a four-by-four square of yellow, and two little jars of what appeared to be paint. The front door closed with a bang, and Link thought Zar must've been back; he could hear voices beyond the beaded curtain separating him from the rest of the shop. And so, as Darron flitted around, busily obeying Isa's every wish, she planned his outfit with surprising deftness.

After a few moments of him feeling useless, he turned to her, about to ask her if he could help Zar and Darron with the leatherwork; and was promptly stripped of his belt. The red leather was folded deftly and set gently on the table. His tunic hung baggily around his form. He gaped at her, and this expression she seemed to register, for she said, "Sorry, Link. I know you won't undress willingly—don't give me that look," she said as he was about to respond that he would, "I know my clientele and nobody ever wants to strip for me." Link blinked twice at her innuendo, but she apparently didn't notice it, for she was too busy unbuttoning a gauntlet too fast to be a normal human being. It, too, was set neatly and gently by the sewing machine, as was his other glove, and his boots were neatly placed on the floor, propped up by the leg of a stool to avoid getting dirt on them. He pulled his tunic from his body, leaving him in his tight white breeches and undershirt.

She turned away, waiting for him to get rid of the garments, which he placed, unfolded, by the others, after nervously and shakily removing. He was left, now, in only his undergarment, and Isa assured him that her blindness was a real ailment (which, if nobody else believed, he certainly did; she nearly tripped over the stool trying to get back to him) and even if she did see anything, it'd never change her high opinion of him. _Nice to know._

She then began fitting him; pinning pieces of bronze fabric to his torso, and yelling suddenly for forgotten items—"I knew I was forgetting that gold silk! Zar! Can I have some gold silk, please?"—which came to her rapidly and left with a polite 'thank you'. It was actually usually Darron who came, even when she called for Zar, but Zar did come, once, of his own accord; and his brown eyes seemed more alert, and he traced her bronze-clad body with a look of adoration Link was hard-pressed to miss.

"Isa," he said softly, his voice improved from its usual stone resonance. She didn't look to him, humming instead to show she was listening, pinning gold silk to Link's torso (after removing the bronze; she wanted to make comfortable underclothes for him so the fabric wouldn't chafe and irritate him). "I've actually got a leather strip ready, and we're studding it now. I just took a break to cut the mask into the cruel teardrop and Darron said he couldn't find Master Sheikah anywhere, but to let you know he actually secured a few feathers that match the bronze, even though they aren't cuckoo. Do you feel fine with owl feathers instead? They were actually donated from an anonymous source; Darron said he found them with a note attached to them by the front door, but there was only a 'KG' on the paper."

Link flinched, remembering Kaepora Gaebora very well; but Isa merely clapped her hands and mumbled 'splendid' around her pins, and Zar departed after one last look of longing at her. And, for once, Link actually felt bad for the tailor as she finished his underclothes and sewed them together deftly; for despite all her talents prevailing over her troubling blindness, she could not even see the loving looks being sent her way. He didn't even know if she knew he loved her; did she think, instead, they were just friends, living together after less-than-favourable incidents occurred? His mind flashed to Sheik; they couldn't find him? Where could he be…?

"Alright, Link," she said, folding the silk garments next to his original clothes. "We've got your undergarments made, and now I shall work on your bronze tunic." She quickly pinned the fabric to his body, asking if it was too tight on his chest, inquiring on his preferences in regards to how baggy it was, showing him what she was to do with the starched gold fabric, and fitting the studded belt on him.

After a few hours of toil and labour, his boots were finished (Zar seemed almost proud as he announced, "Custom-fit leather boots, waterproofed and ready for either fancy-dress parties or duels") his belt was completed ("Studded with finished, polished bronze studs, clasped on either side for a reversible effect"), his mask fitted ("It's supposed to hold by your hair, Link," Isa said, sounding accomplished. "The hooks on the ends are made for a specifically gentle tug, and your hair naturally flows back, so it will hold. It's fitted with the owl feathers coming off the side to give you a warrior-type look, you know? Do you like the paint? It's supposed to be mostly wooden like that to give off a sturdy, brave feel"), his silk undergarments ironed and pressed ("They're softer toward your skin and rougher near the tunic, so it won't bunch up, I swear to you"), his breeches assembled ("Gold breeches give a good contrast to the bronze of your tunic, and show just how godly your legs really are") and half his tunic completed.

Everyone was now working closer to Isa, seeing as how all the leatherwork was done, and Link was ordered not to move or let death be his punishment. He believed his captors when they said that and made extra sure not to move anything. Zar was starching the gold fabric Isa cut out while Darron was cutting out a vine pattern from the gold velvet she'd requested. Isa was fitting the sleeves to his arms.

"They're going to end with those gold cuffs Zar's starching," Isa said, making sure the sleeves didn't cut off his circulation. "And the hem of your tunic is going to be that fine pattern Darron's cutting out. It's also going to be around your collar. The yellow's simply to cover up your gold undershirt; it's gonna fit in that little V right there," she said, pointing to the V-dip of his collar. "We're going to leave that neck of yours visible for any viewers who want a taste," she said deviously, and Darron nearly dropped the scissors giggling. Zar briefly snorted. Link blushed bright red, his thoughts instantly jumping to Sheik's lips on his pulse. Isa seemed to ignore his sudden increase in body-temperature and fitted the other sleeve with ease.

Soon, the tunic and finished sleeves had been sewn, the starched cuffs (done so well that they earned Zar a sweet kiss on the cheek, which he seemed to enjoy) added to the end using golden thread ("I'm so crafty. The cuff'll hide the seam!"), and the final finishing touches were appended; the square of yellow, and the hems. The result, when Link was implored to put it all on together, was a rather fetching Hero of Time.

"Yes!" Isa cried, hugging Zar tightly. "Link, you look fantastic!" Link smiled at Zar's arm snaking around her waist, musing that he could clasp half her stomach with one hand and encase her with the other. He met Zar's usually dull gaze and found it vibrant; he gave Link a nod that seemed to say 'you've got the goods now, kid'. Link nodded back.

"You do really look great, Link," Darron replied, smiling. "I'm glad our hard work has paid off. You're going to be the apple of everyone's eye!"

"Watch your drink, Link," she said, then looked out the window; and gasped. "It's nearly time for the festival! We've got to get dressed, Zar!" She ushered him toward a small bureau in the corner and waved to the boys. "Link, when the festival starts, and I mean officially starts, come back here to change. There's no way I'm sending you home with this with the chance of people looking. Now, both of you get outta here!" She grinned cheekily at them as they exited, Link feeling rather normal in his usual tunic.

* * *

It felt strange, walking out of the store and seeing sunset on the horizon; the last time he was outside, it was midday, and Sheik was jumping amid rooftops, hanging decorations. Now, the festival was all set up; a stage had been placed near the inn, a few large kegs set out in front of it. A sign that read 'festival attendees sleep free' was hung over the inn door. Darron noted it was because so many attendees got drunk, and the best thing to do was give them some place to sleep it off besides home.

Link inquired to Anju about the whereabouts of Sheik as they passed by her; she was carrying what appeared to be a stool toward a nearby table. Anju replied that he'd just gone inside a few minutes ago after retrieving something from the Zoras.

"Really? He told you all this?" Link said, astonished Sheik would stop by Anju and give her a heads up before he headed off anywhere.

"No," she replied. "He just left and came back pretty soon after with a bundle wrapped in what appeared to be scales and he was sopping wet. I jus' assumed the obvious." Link's astonishment was short-lived. "Anyway," she continued. "He's at home now. Why aren't you boys dressed for the festival yet? Everybody but the hard-workin' folk are inside, primping and pampering like there's no tomorrow!"

Darron grinned. "We are the hard-working folk, madam," he said, and, bowing to her, asked, "May I deliver that stool for you, madam? 'Tis a long walk to the nearest table."

Her response was a quick little giggle, but she dashed off without saying another word. Darron laughed. Then, he turned to Link, still grinning. "I ought to leave you alone now, Link. I've been bugging you all day. I'm going to go change for the festival; I'll see you after it starts, okay?" Link nodded, not feeling bugged at all as Darron headed toward his house, waving to people he passed by. Link started toward his own, ascending the stairs, reaching the door and turning the knob; only to find it locked.

"Sheik?" Link asked, rapping his knuckles on the door softly, and Link heard someone swear within. "Can I come in?"

A moment passed, in which he could hear something fall to the ground; it sounded eerily like rain. "Sorry, but, no."

Link laughed a little. "How much effort did it take you to say that 'sorry'?"

A pause. "Just a bit, to be honest."

Link laughed again. "Alright, I'll leave you be. I'll see you at the festival." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Link paused, looking at the door. He didn't expect it to open. It didn't. "How'd your fitting go?"

"It was terrifying and delightful at the same time, Sheik," he replied. "The tailor's half-blind, her assistant's a killer, and Darron was zero help." His tone was obviously mocking, for Sheik's sake. Facial expressions are a bit hard to read through a door.

Sheik's laugh could be heard through the barrier between them, and Link marvelled at the sound; it was sweet and pure, even when muffled by the door. He smiled, too, prompted by Sheik's sudden chipper attitude. "Okay. I'll see you tonight?"

"Alright," Link replied, and he once again descended the stairs, instantly taking up helping the villagers out with setting up tables and lights. Din's fire actually helped light a bonfire up on the hilltop, so that if the wind hit the lanterns hard (for wind always swept down the mountain), the bonfire would remain intact and light the way. The decorations were all mounted, the lanterns all lit, the fire roaring, the food brought out; and suddenly the band began to play, and it appeared that the festival had started.

Link retreated to a safe place and watched, enraptured, as well-dressed citizens came out, looking for all the world like autumn (and some like spring; one young girl was wearing all yellow and green, looking like a chipper sunflower). Dances commenced, drinks were consumed, and as soon as Link was assured that the festival had **truly** begun, he darted across the rooftops to the tailor's, where he snuck inside.

As soon as the door was closed, Isa called out his name. "Link, I'm assuming that's you," she said, and he moved toward the back. "Come on back, friend, we're just fastening the last of Zar's attire." Link crossed the counter and the beaded curtain, instantly seeing Isa in the firelight. She was tiptoeing, craning her neck to tie one last leather knot on Zar's neck before turning around to face him.

She looked beautiful. Her hair had come out of her messy black bun and had been rolled up into an arch that framed her head, two sticks holding it in place. She was wearing what appeared to be a ceremonial frock with incredibly long sleeves and a very long skirt, the neck itself very high. The dress was covered in glittering gold, bronze, orange, yellow and green autumn leaves that appeared to fall; sparse at the top; but accumulated at the bottom of her gown. The backdrop was brown, a brown akin to Zar's. She looked literally like fall.

To top it off, she had a strange contraption mounted on her nose; it was wooden, apparently carved by Zar, but it was too small to be something he'd do normally; it came in squares around her eyes and then hooked behind her ears. Two pieces of glass were settled into the squares. She wasn't squinting at him.

Zar, on the other hand, looked handsome. His hair was pushed up, away from his eyes, and his body was adorned in various kinds of shades and types of dark leather, and nothing but; buckles seemed to be placed at random, but he knew they held everything together. Zar seemed fond of studs, too, for he was studded in some places and not in others. Link mused that if you pulled the two costumes together, they would look like a tree; Zar would be the rough bark, and Isa, the gentle, descending leaves.

"Are you ready to dress, then?" she asked, and he nodded. She helped him out of his old and into his new clothes, making sure all the hems were even and no loose strings were visible.

"Because that's what I hate most," she said, giving him one last once-over. "Icky visible strings. Alright, I think you've passed. Come out when you're ready, alright?" Link nodded, and Zar took Isa's arm, nodding to him as Isa waved, and the next thing he knew, the shop door closed, and he was alone.

* * *

Link was honestly nervous about leaving the shop. He was dressed in a manner he was not used to, about to embark on a strange, twisted journey with the sadist-yet-masochist-looking tailor and her masochist-yet-sadist-looking assistant; not to mention their dear pet, Darron, who only wanted a leather armband out of all of this. But it wasn't just his strange friends that made this night nerve-wracking.

It was waiting for Sheik that had him all stressed out.

He was wondering why he'd gone to see the Zoras, though he didn't ask out of politeness, and what he'd look like for the festival was anybody's guess. Link knew he'd be stunned either way, and so he wondered if he'd look like a complete idiot, transfixed by how amazing Sheik looked.

Could Link even dance? Hell, he didn't know.

He was screwed.

He sighed, rubbing his face and looking at the wooden mask in his hands. It had been painted subtly; the bronze was a thick stripe around the eye and down the cheekbone, the gold stripe thinner and following directly next to it. It made him look fearsome; like a warrior, as Isa had said. Now if only he could embody the courage of this warrior he was dressed up as he'd be all set to go.

Kaepora Gaebora. He felt the long feathers donated by his old friend, who was no doubt alive somewhere. That old owl had scared him senseless when he first called 'hoo' down from the tree above the Kokiri entrance. But he'd stood back up and found him to be a friend, not a foe, and listened as best he could to his words of wisdom. Link was pleased to make a friend and glad to say he had been brave enough to stick around (for a young boy, this was certainly an accomplishment).

He felt the feathers again. Was this Kaepora Gaebora's mysterious way of telling him to have courage? Because even if it wasn't, he was still going to believe it was, just so he could feel better about getting up and walking outside the door.

He stood, pushing the mask into its place in his hair and strode to the door, opening it and stepping into the night. He was ready.

* * *

Link's senses were overwhelmed with the delicious scent of food and burning fires, his ears enveloped with beautiful music and joyful speech and laughter, his eyes embraced by the most colourful and jovial sight he'd ever witnessed.

He moved forward, quickly, down the stairs and into the fray of the crowd, searching for a familiar face. People were dancing all around him, though a few people stopped and stared at him as he strode by, apologising when he accidentally bumped people mid-dance. He saw a flurry of robes and instantly knew it was Isa and Zar, dancing in their own special way. He looked around for anyone else, not wanting to disturb them in their sanctuary, when his hand was tugged and he turned, instantly meeting Darron. His eyelids were covered in something brown, making his blue eyes stand out all the more. His hair was tipped with brown, and his long-sleeved green shirt was hidden beneath his brown vest. Brown trousers and leather boots completed the ensemble, the arm-band he'd wanted earlier wrapped around the green shirt. It appeared his neck, arms, cheeks, and hands were covered in brown symbols he couldn't read but were optically pleasing.

"You finally came!" he cried joyfully over the din. "Have you seen Anju yet?" Link shook his head. "Well, she came as a cuckoo, the sweet thing," he replied, and Link laughed a little. "Come," he said, tugging on Link's hand gently. "Let's get some ale, shall we? Don't worry, I drink in moderation. I rarely splash out, even on nights like these." Link was grateful for that, and so ale sounded perfect. As Darron filled up two mugs with ale, Isa and Zar emerged from the crowd, taking two mugs for themselves. Of course Zar went for seconds almost instantly, considering a mug wasn't much for him, but Isa didn't seem to notice, smiling at Link.

"You look good by firelight," she said, and he smiled.

"As do you," he replied, and she nodded thanks.

"What's got you so nervous, then, friend?" she asked, and he paused, looking at her. She sipped her ale innocently, peering at him over the rim, but Link knew she knew; she could sense his nervousness.

He sighed, giving in, staring at his custom boots. "I'm waiting for Sheik to come out. I'm usually with him, and so I feel more comfortable around him, you know?"

Isa nodded sagely while Zar grunted in response. "Yeah, being roommates can do that," she said, sipping her ale once more. "Zar and myself are rarely seen without each other. It's because he'd probably end up wiping out an entire population if someone looked at him funny, and I'd probably fall into a river and end up in Termina." Link smiled as Zar pat her shoulder while drinking his ale. She gave Link a look that said 'he would, too', when Darron tapped on his shoulder.

"Wait's over, my friend," he said, and he pointed up to Sheik's house. Link's eyes followed and he froze at what he saw.

In the firelight, the figure glowed an eerie white; but that was silver's reflecting fire, and Link was mesmerised. Before anything else could be seen, he seemingly disappeared. Instantly, Link turned to look for him in the crowd. After a few moments of scanning, it just wasn't enough; saying goodbye for now to his friends, he turned and plunged into the fray, looking at individual faces, hoping to see a spark of white dance somewhere in his vision. The smell of sweat and ale was intoxicating, and it frustrated him more and more that he couldn't find him. He needed to get out of the crowd before he was lost, and so he moved toward the closest edge he could see, which was by the well. Link could see two teens sitting on the steps to the windmill, but the dark corner cast by its walkway remained uninhabited, and so he sat there, head in his hands, trying to remember what fresh air smelled like. It smelled like grass, it smelled like dirt, it smelled like Sheikah sweat…

"Come out from the dark."

Link's head shot up at the voice. He knew that voice.

"Sheik…?"

"I need to see you."

Link sighed, stood, putting his mask back on, and stepped into the column of light cast by the bonfire and the lanterns. He could see a glimmer in the dark from a brief movement, but that was all. Link stood, captured in the firelight, a bronze statue for all to behold.

"It's your turn."

Sheik sighed, frustrated. "Must I?"

Link smiled. "It's only fair." He tried to hide the fact that his whole body was screaming 'yes', and his heart was pounding.

"I suppose so."

And so, into the light stepped this beautiful creature, and Link nearly gasped at his beauty. Sheik's hair was flecked with silver scales, all staying in place even as he moved, flickering with every stirring. The lower half of his face was covered in a silver cowl, outlining his lips with grey shadows. A long column of silver ran up his neck and down over his shoulders, but the rest of the garment was purple and indigo, except the silver braces and shin-guards. His shape was outlined by the mesh of indigo and purple combining on his torso. Purple and indigo scarves were tied seemingly at random on his person, a silver hood falling behind him.

Link's breath caught and he swore he would've swooned had he not been so focused on the fact that Sheik's eyes were hungrily raking over him. He felt greatly inadequate next to Sheik, but apparently he didn't think so.

Link decided to joke about it, spreading his arms slightly. "Like what you see?"

The joke was not taken as such, for soon they were back in the darkness, and Sheik was descending hungrily upon him. Link tried to stifle the forthcoming groan as Sheik attacked his neck, sensually licking and sucking and kissing to his heart's content.

"Why'd you let her dress you like this?" Sheik asked, switching sides. Link stifled a gasp in his throat at the ravenousness of his beloved. "How did you expect me to keep my hands off you once I saw you?" And indeed, his hands were on him; pulling and feeling, pinching lightly and sweeping all over him, setting him on fire even as he spoke. Sheik pulled back and looked at Link, and Link was hard-pressed not to laugh at the actual annoyance written all over his face. He was seriously as annoyed as his words implied. "Are you mad?"

Link actually laughed at this, for the question was said so seriously he couldn't take it seriously. "No, I'm not," he replied. Then, he fixed a feral gaze at Sheik. "What about you?" he asked, and Sheik seemed to freeze. "I spotted you, the only silver ember in all of the firelight. I could ask you the same question." Link leaned forward slowly, tugging on Sheik's earlobe with his teeth. "You're doing this to seduce me."

"Festivals in Kakariko are often played as such," Sheik mused aloud as the hero kissed his jaw. "The ale, the colours… It's like a peacock's plumage. Everyone is trying to win a mate tonight, using the same colours in different ways."

"Are you saying everyone out there **wants** to seduce someone else?" Link asked, pulling away, and Sheik nodded, pressing closer to Link in the dark. The heat of his body generously radiated toward Link, making him feel as though they were one entity.

"Everyone but me," Sheik replied, his voice nothing but raw, dark hunger, a drastic change from his whimsical musing just a moment earlier. "Because I don't want you. I **need** you. I **have** to have you." His hands resumed exploring, his lips caressing Link's neck as he writhed before his lover.

And then Sheik suddenly stopped, his mouth close to Link's ear. "I've never felt this maddened, this brash," he whispered. "I know we must leave soon; to face the desert together. And that will be the end of our merrymaking, and our apparent safety. We should make the most of this night together, because… How many more have we to stay together, to live, to simply be?"

Link was frozen, thinking; in his mind's eye he saw Ponn, lying dead on that dungeon floor, and realised his mortality once more; and Sheik was alive in his arms, his heart beating, his hands stable on his ribcage as he whispered to his lover, a silent plea he wished not to say aloud; _'Take me home with you, please, so we may be human one last night.'_

Link pulled back from his lover and kissed him with all the love he possessed; this kiss was void of previous lust, and Sheik felt it, and he responded all the same. And when Link pulled away and gently stroked his neck with his fingers, he said, "Do not be scared of what the future brings. No matter where I am, you'll always be mine, and I, always yours." He grinned. "Let's go." _'Please come home with me, so we may be human one last night.'_

Sheik smiled in reply and allowed his hand to be taken, allowed Link to slip by him and lead the way, and didn't notice the trio heading up the steps in search of him smile as they walked past. For tonight was their night, their one last night before they were thrust into that world of hate and pain again, and there would be no time, then, for what they wanted to say. So they'd say it now, and say it together. Link, to worship Sheik's body in the moonlight, admiring the flecks of silver in his hair… Sheik, to admire Link's heart in the heat of the moment, feeling it beating against his own…

They went home so they could be human one last night…

…before the world fell down again.

* * *

**_Sweet mother of mercy. This was too much fun._**

**_Mind you, the festival was never supposed to happen. And all that fancy costuming made the festival that much shorter, all because Link and Sheik couldn't help themselves. Oh, boys. XD_**

**_Hey, at least I updated! :D I'll never do this again, I promise. This I vow! *dramatic pose* Anyway, enjoy. d:_**

**_**First use of the 'F' word in this fic. Trololol._**

**_This chapter is dedicated to my Zar, who knows very well who they are. _**


End file.
